Five Times Someone Saved Party Poison
by wolfbane17
Summary: And One Time They Couldn't. Based on My Chemical Romance/Killjoys from Danger Days album verse. CHAP7&8: Na Na Na and SING.
1. Jet Star

5 Times Someone Saved Party Poison and One Time They Couldn't

**A/N: This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while so I just decided to post it. I fell in love with the story/universe that My Chemical Romance created through the album "Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys" and their music videos for "Na Na Na" and "SING" and just had to add in my thoughts. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own My Chemical Romance. Just their CD.  
**

* * *

ONE

JET STAR

* * *

They're all still new at it, at being Killjoys. Still reeling from the sudden loss of the life they'd grown accustomed to, still hurting because the change is so sudden and disastrous it kills something inside all of them in one fell swoop.

And anger and hatred for Better Life Industries isn't always enough and now they're completely surrounded, out in the middle of nowhere.

Kobra is fighting off a Draculoid who's got him pinned to the ground when he sees it.

Fun Ghoul is to his left, brawling with a pair of Dracs and too far away to do anything. And Jet Star is being hounded by another enemy, grappling with him (it, really) for control over the ray gun that lies scattered only feet away.

Kobra sees what is happening and he fights harder, _faster_.

Because Party Poison is only human, and he _needs to breathe_. And the Draculoid sitting on his chest, squeezing his throat with white gloved fingers is _not_.

Not anymore at least.

Party is starting to go slack now, Kobra can see it out of the corner of his eyes as he throws a punch at the masked head in front of him.

The Draculoid snarls in outraged pain but it doesn't move.

Kobra can't find his voice. His brother is being killed near him, being strangled to death, and _Kobra can't find his damn voice._

Jet Star can see Kobra Kid struggling against the Draculoid on top of him. He can see Party Poison slowing down, his arms dropping to his side as the lack of air pacifies him cruelly.

Jet Star finally gains purchase on the ray gun, shooting at his own attacker before taking out the two attacking Fun Ghoul.

Kobra's former attacker lunges at him and falls back to the barren, desert earth, brought down by a point blank shot.

Kobra is too busy trying to rouse his brother to notice or care. He can't really hear the fired shots above the blood thundering in his ears because _Party isn't fucking breathing and not responding even when he shakes him really hard and slips the yellow half-mask off the red-head_.

"Party, come on dammit!"

He can feel his other two team members around him now, standing by in solemn and shocked silence.

And then…

Party Posion's chest rises and falls, rises and falls.

And Kobra Kid feels an overwhelming sense of relief as he helps his older brother sit up, Party's rasping, chocking cough music to his ears.

Sighs of relief and chuckles go around the group and once he's regained his breath the red-headed Killjoy looks at them all and grins,

"It's going to take more than one little Draculoid to stop me."

They all laugh and help their unofficial leader off the ground, walking back to the Trans AM in a tighter circle than before.

And later that night, when Kobra Kid lays a slightly shaking hand on Jet Star's shoulder, thanking him for saving his brother, the frizzy haired man can only pray that Party Poison's words are never proven wrong.

* * *

**Next up: Fun Ghoul! Please read and review!**


	2. Fun Ghoul

5 Times Someone Saved Party Poison and One Time They Couldn't

**A/N: This one is a little darker than the first one but still ends on a positive note. It mentions an OC but he's mentioned only briefly, though he is pivotal to what is going on in this one shot. I've imbued some of my own views/thoughts on Gerard Way and what he stands for (in my eyes) through Fun Ghoul's words, and I will continue to do it throughout the story. I would also like to mention that Party Poison will be saved in more ways than one, i.e. not only _physically_ saved from danger.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own My Chemical Romance. Just their CDs.**

**DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE ME YOUR OPINION VIA REVIEW.  
**

* * *

TWO

FUN GHOUL

* * *

"He's gone. Nothing more we can do for him now, boys, than give him a proper burial."

Dr. Death Defying sits back up in his wheelchair as Show Pony roller skates next to him, hands clenching and unclenching as he stares at the body on the ground with tears in his eyes. He's the most effeminate out of all of them, even Cherri Cola.

Party Poison takes one more look at the body on the ground before turning on his heel and walking off.

Kobra Kid calls after him and gets only silence.

"You gotta give him some time Kobra. He needs to be alone now and work through things."

Kobra Kid only nods, chest growing tight.

"Where are we gonna bury him?"

* * *

When Party Poison doesn't join them for their usual dinner of BL/ind dog kibble crap, Fun Ghoul is the one to go after him.

He has to look for only a few minutes before he spots the flaming red hair in the distance.

He makes sure to approach noisily. Party has developed fast reflexes and wicked hearing and could very well mistake him for a creeping Draculoid trying to get the drop on him.

"Party Poison?"

The Killjoy doesn't turn his head or even acknowledge his presence. He only continues to stare at the setting sun and the un-natural violet haze it creates in the radiation-soaked atmosphere.

Fun Ghoul takes a seat next to his friend.

"I was supposed to keep him safe Fun Ghoul. He was sixteen fucking years old and I was supposed to protect him. I fucked up and the kid ended up paying the price."

The self-deprecation ringing in Party's voice sends chills up Ghoul's spine.

"It wasn't your fault Party. It wasn't any of our faults. The kind of world we're living in is shit and Killjoys don't exactly lead the safest lives around. "

Party Poison just snickers humorlessly and Fun Ghoul decides he'd prefer the self-hating tone to this one that chimes with an undercurrent of barely concealed panic and insanity.

"I should have sent him back when he found us, Ghoul. He was the youngest to have ever escaped from Battery City and I knew they'd come for him. They won't let anyone get away. I should have _never_ let him stay."

Fun Ghoul remembers the first time the young man showed up at the diner, near starved with hunger and thirst, bearing a ray gun burn on his left shoulder. He had collapsed as soon as he'd seen they were Killjoys and not Draculoids. At first, Party Poison had been bent on sending the kid back. They hadn't needed the burden of a child (because that's what he was really, still only a child) on top of everything else.

But he'd grown on Party Poison. He'd grown on all of them.

And now he was lying on the dusty, cracked earth, voice forever silenced.

Fun Ghoul frowns. He doesn't believe in silence. Everything had a voice, a voice that could live on through others. Party Poison had helped him learn that truth, years and years ago.

"He made a choice to stay Party. He would have never left on his own. He wanted to be a Killjoy. None of us could have stopped him from that."

"He didn't need to fucking die!"

"You've never believed that death was the end of anything."

The rising defeat in Party's eyes scares the shit out of Fun Ghoul and he continues, voice growing desperately stronger.

"You can't save everyone Party. We chose you as our leader because you're the strongest out of all of us. I'm not talking about being tough. I'm talking about _strength_. Even after…after everything got fucked up by the bombs and BL/ind, you refused to give up. You _refused_ to give in, to be _silenced_, and you convinced us and many others to do the same. You can't change what's happened already. _But you can change the outcome and hope to change the world_. You used to tell me that all the time. Were you lying all along?"

"Fun Ghoul, I–"

"That kid admired you because he believed everything I've just told you. Are you going to prove _him _wrong? Are you going to prove _all of us_ wrong?"

Something else rises in Party Poison's eyes then. For a minute, Fun Ghoul thinks that the other Killjoy is going to punch him.

And then he recognizes the emotion for what it is (he hasn't seen it fully in a while).

Utter determination burns in Party's hazel eyes, brighter even than the setting sun.

There is still pain there. There always will be.

But now Party Poison is standing up, reaching to him to help him do the same.

"Ghoul…"

"You're welcome Gee."

A small smile twitches on Party's face as he helps the smaller, younger man off the ground.

* * *

**Next up: Kobra Kid! Yup, you'll see in what way he saves his brother :)**

**Also, if anyone would like to take one of these one shots and expand it into a story, I would be excited to hear that!  
**


	3. Kobra Kid

5 Times Someone Saved Party Poison and One Time They Couldn't

**A/N: This one is a darker than the previous ones. Again, this chapter is infused with more of how I see the dynamic between the four of them working out both now and in the imagined 2019 future. The one shots get longer and longer in my head and I just type it out so keep expecting the length to increase.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own My Chemical Romance. Just their CDs.**

**DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE ME YOUR OPINION VIA REVIEW.  
**

* * *

THREE

KOBRA KID

* * *

Dr. Death Defying presses his back harder against his wheelchair, trying to relieve some of the ache in his shoulders.

"I honestly don't know what else to do."

Kobra Kid sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair.

"Dr. Death, there has got to be something. Anything…"

Fun Ghoul rests a hand on Kobra's shoulder.

Kobra ignores him.

"We can't just stand around! There's got to be _something_!"

Dr. Death Defying backs up his wheelchair, turning to face the younger brother of the Killjoy who is currently unconscious on his bed.

"I've cleaned the wound as best I could Kobra. Used up the last of the alcohol we had left. The rest is up to Party."

"So we're just supposed to sit around and wait? Hope that he's strong enough to fight it?"

Dr. Death Defying's compassionate eyes become hard.

"Don't underestimate your brother Kobra. We all know that if there's anyone strong enough to fight it, its Party."

With that, Dr. Death Defying rolls out of the small room, leaving the three Killjoys alone.

"He'll make it Kobra. He always does."

Kobra Kid can only nod at Jet Star. He notices that Fun Ghoul's hand is still on his shoulder.

"He'll pull through. And until then, we have to be strong too."

The blond Killjoy acknowledges the encouragement with a small hug before moving closer to the bed, sitting down gently next to Party Poison's prone form.

He reaches to the upturned box beside the bed, and takes the large, chipped bowl of lukewarm warm with sure hands. He cradles it for a moment and looks at Jet Star.

"Are you sure this is the coldest water we have?"

"It's the coldest that it's going to get."

Kobra knows the temperatures are ridiculously high nowadays but it doesn't stop him feeling irritation at the way everything is going.

He pulls the dripping, worn towel from the bowl and squeezes it to dampness before placing it on Party Poison's too-hot forehead.

Kobra arranges it for a few seconds, preparing himself for what he is about to do. He is the only one who has yet to look at the source of his brother's current predicament.

And yes it would hurt. It hurt right now, to see his brother in pain, possibly on the way to never opening his eyes again.

But he has to know what they are up against.

Kobra slowly pulls up Party Poison's loose shirt.

The bandage on Party's left side is crimson where blood has seeped through and his breath catches in his throat because when he pulls away the makeshift wrapping, finally looks at the cruel ray gun burn that is the cause of everything, _Party's collapse, his fever, everything_, he wants to un-see it.

He wants to un-see the trembling way Party walked yesterday, the way he pushed them away and told them all it was fine.

_"Really you guys, its healing. I'll be all right."_

For a moment he wonders that they're all lucky that none of their own wounds have taken the horrible turn that Party's has (Dr. Death Defying has told them that while the radiation as caused by the Event of 2012 had killed off many microorganisms, it didn't wipe out all of them)

He thinks briefly about going to his room (a small storage space in the Diner) and getting his bass, the only thing he owns that survives from his past life, and playing something for Party, as a means to draw him back to them.

The idea fades away though, and Kobra resets the bandage and just continues to bathe his brother's hot, clammy skin with the damp cloth.

* * *

By the time that the sun begins to set it becomes painfully clear that Party Poison isn't getting better. The red-haired Killjoy is sweating through his shirt, through the sheets and Jet Star is continuously mumbling about the dangers of dehydration.

They try to pass small sips of water through Party's chapped lips but he wheezes out most of the water and it's so utterly terrifying to hear his breathing struggle and struggle more as the hours pass by that Kobra can't stand it, _he can't fucking stand it and he knows he needs to do something or his brother won't last._

When he finally works up the courage to leave Party's side, the wounded man is delirious with fever and thrashing weakly in the bed, battling his inner demons with broken whimpers and angry rambling that pierces every one of their hearts and minds to the core.

Kobra Kid decides to take one the few working bikes they have behind the diner. He thinks it's faster than the Trans AM and speed is essential to his task.

Dr. Death is angry with him because if Party really is going to… to leave them, then his brother should at least be there to comfort him in his final moments.

Kobra shoves away the thought and fastens the carefully wrapped, medium sized object to the back of the motorcycle securely.

He knows there are other survivors to the west, near the edges of Zone 7.

He knows that while they support the Killjoys and their mission, they will not just simply give away something as valuable as medicine.

He doesn't even know if they have any but he has to try because he's fucking tired of watching his brother's precious life slowly slip away.

He won't let it happen.

* * *

The Killjoy returns to the Diner hours shy of dawn breaking over the horizon. He gets off his bike and runs to the door, shouting out that it's only him, only Kobra Kid, so that no one mistakes him for a Draculoid and shoots him down.

Dr. Death intercepts him on the way to his brother's room.

His face is no more sad than it was when Kobra left and he sighs in relief because it means Party is still alive and together they go back into the room.

Party is on his side, asleep and shaking, muttering nothings into the air ripe with the smell of sickness.

Jet Star and Fun Ghoul brighten at his return and come closer as Kobra reaches into the bag on his shoulder and pulls out two things; A dirtied, quarter-empty saline bag and a matchbox. Its contents barely shake against each other as he takes it out, telling all present in the room that it is full.

Dr. Death Defying takes the items and looks up at him, barely veiled surprise in his eyes.

"What the hell did you trade to get all these things?"

Kobra only smiles weakly, "Nothing that is worth more than my brother's life."

* * *

They somehow manage to fashion a saline drip, and then they give one of the blue pills from the matchbox to Party Poison. It's not easy forcing it down his throat but they all know it will save him so they ignore any protest he makes.

When midday rolls around they're all terribly exhausted. Party's fever broke hours ago but he has yet to wake and Kobra can feel the worry begin to eat at his thoughts anew.

He's wondering if it was all for nothing when he feels fingers clutch around his knee.

His head immediately shoots up from where he was holding it in his hands and his eyes meet the green-brown irises of his brother.

"Mikey?"

The name is grated out harshly and Kobra Kid can't help but laugh with happiness.

In fact, he's laughing so hard there's tears in his eyes and he leans over the bed and just clings to his brother.

Fun Ghoul is right behind him, a silly smile on his face as he punches Jet Star in the arm.

"We should go tell Dr. Death."

Jet Star understands that Fun Ghoul wants to give the brothers some privacy and immediately follows the shorter man out the door.

Party watches them leave with a slow turn of the head before he looks to his arm.

"Um…Kobra…why is there a needle in my arm?"

Kobra Kid remembers how frightened Party is of needles and he throws the bed sheet over the arm with the improvised IV.

"Just don't look at it Party. You needed some fluids."

Now lucid, Party looks up at the coat hanger, supported precariously by a bent nail on the wall, holding the saline bag. His head turns to the upturned box that functions as a bedside table and he sees the matchbox and a couple of the small blue pills. Party's brain is still sluggish from being seriously sick but it doesn't take him long to put two and two together.

"We didn't have any meds... Where'd Dr. Death get them?"

"Does it matter?"

Party lies back down. He is clearly trying to ward off the weariness but his eyes are starting to flutter closed.

"Hey Mikey…how's 'bout you play me som'thing with your bass?"

Kobra Kid smiles at him, "I'm pretty tired Party. How about you go to sleep and I'll bring it out later 'kay?"

Party nods at his brother and settles back on the pillow. Kobra gets up and goes outside, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.

Dr. Death Defying is waiting for him.

"How long do you reckon till he figures it out?"

"I don't know. I'll tell him eventually."

"You loved that bass, Kobra."

"Not more than I love my brother."

"That man in there has a way of earning love and loyalty."

"That's why it's important he stays alive."

Dr. Death Defying shook his head, "It's why it's important you _all_ stay alive. It's not something to be explained easily or taken lightly, what you all share… And you don't have to be humble 'bout what you did, you know."

Kobra Kid grins widely, _the last hours have worked his nerves to the breaking point and he needs, _needs_, to lighten the situation, needs for everything to return to how it was before Party got sick_, "Who said anything about being humble? As soon as Party is up and running, I'm laying claim to his pack of cigarettes and that coffee stash he thinks no one knows about."

Dr. Death can see right through him, can see plainly that if Party ever dies, he'll take a piece of his brothers' hearts with him. It scares him and he wants to say something to Kobra Kid but Fun Ghoul and Jet Star walk in at that moment.

"PARTY HAS A SECRET STASH OF COFFEE?"

And Dr. Death and Kobra Kid laugh because its about damn time that some things get back to normal.

* * *

**Next up: Dr. Death Defying!  
**

**Also, if anyone would like to take one of these one shots and expand it into a story, I would be excited to hear that!  
**


	4. Dr Death Defying

5 Times Someone Saved Party Poison and One Time They Couldn't

**A/N: This one offers a lighter tone than the previous ones but near the end there are hints as to Party's inner demons (which will be the main focus of the next chapter ;D ). **

**uh-oh, one more to go before Party cannot be saved :( **

**ALSO, i BELIEVE SOME REVIEW REPLIES ARE IN ORDER AS YOU GUYS HAVE BEEN ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL:**

**TO: Ghoul: Thank you for leaving a review! I hope this chapter satisfies!  
**

**TO: TheSoundNA: Thanks for the review. A writer always enjoys hearing that their work is loved :D  
**

**TO: SunshineGunner: Thank you so much for the review. And I know what you mean, I look everywhere for fic that really explores the deeper truths and meanings in the amazing new universe that MCR has created for us.  
**

**TO: Starrina Leonheart:Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one!  
**

**TO: terrablaze: Thank you! Mickey's chapter was a hard one to write so it thrills me to hear that it was so popular :)**

**TO: Knight Thunder: I'm glad you liked Kobra Kid's chapter. As I said before, that was probably the hardest to write up to this point because I struggled with what Kobra should trade for medicine for Party. It had to be something meaningful and symbolic and I'm glad to see that I achieved that :)  
**

**TO: chaosbulldog: Please do! I have someone who already told me they want to expand one of the one shots and I am excited to hear that you may be a second taker! Thank you for leaving a review!**

**TO: The Swim Chick: Thank you for always leaving reviews! You were my first reviewer and I'm always excited to read what review you left me each time. Is there anything you would like to see in subsequent chapters? I know there's only two left, but I will listen and try to work something in! I also noticed that you're the head of the Killjoys fanfiction community on this site. I'll go ahead with my shameless plug and ask you if you might add/include my story to the community archive? XD Again, thank you for always taking the time to review! It means a lot to a writer.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own My Chemical Romance. Just their CDs.**

**DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE ME YOUR OPINION VIA REVIEW.  
**

* * *

FOUR

DR. DEATH DEFYING

* * *

"Just let her go."

Korse smiles at him wickedly and the words are growled out, "What makes you think I'll do what you say, Killjoy?"

Party Poison's jaw works. He glances down at the frizzy haired girl in the clutches of the Draculoid standing next to Korse.

"The girl needs to go back to Battery City."

"She clearly doesn't want to go back. Besides, you're outnumbered fucker."

"You forget that I have a ray gun to her pretty little head. And you also forget that you cannot hurt me."

The sneer is back and Party Poison wishes he could blow it off the Exterminator's face. Fun Ghoul tenses behind him and Party looks back at him shortly, warning him to stand down until they figure this out. He sends the same, wordless message to Kobra Kid and Jet Star.

"What do you want Korse? Why come all the way out here for a kid?"

"The girl has defied Better Living Industries. She will be taken back to Battery City immediately to begin her re-integration into society."

"And if she doesn't comply?"

"That's is none of your concern, Killjoy."

The red-haired man takes another fleeting look at the girl. There is a yawning, pleading fear in her eyes that tears at his heart but there is also defiance there. Strong and pulsating. Her soulful brown eyes awaken something in him.

_She's younger, much younger than the last kid that ran away from Battery City and attempted to find them. The boy's face floats in his head before Party pulls away from the painful memory, concentrating once more on the situation at hand._

"So why not kill her already? Go ahead, pull the trigger. You sure as hell don't give a flying fuck about her. Or is there something else that you're looking to get out this little meeting?"

Korse laughs , "I know perfectly well that I'm outnumbered…but I have a…_proposition_ for you, Killjoy. A way that you can have the girl."

"And what exactly is that?"

Kobra Kid doesn't like the direction that the conversation is heading and he nudges this displeasure to Jet Star as discreetly as possible.

The Exterminator's head turns to the side a little, his predatory grin looking more deranged with the shifted angle.

"We don't know who you really are yet, unfortunately…but I know you for what you are worth, _Killjoy._"

"Tell me, according to BL/ind, _what_ am I worth?"

"You, _Party Poison_, are worth more than you think…you're the head of the snake, so to speak. A snake that is very, _very_ annoying to those I represent."

Party Poison understands what Korse is getting at. What he wants.

_His mind screams at him to find another solution, but if it will buy the girl time, if it will buy his _brothers _time until he thinks up a better plan or until reinforcements arrive, then…_

Party Poison spreads his arms to the side, palms upturned.

Kobra Kid can't believe his eyes, "What the fuck are you doing Party?"

His brother disregards him and takes a step forward. Towards Korse and the three Draculoids.

He grins his most wild smile and lets a look of utmost rebellion burn in his eyes.

"Come and get me then. I'm the head of the snake aren't I? Cut off the head and the rest of the body is practically harmless. Go ahead. Come and get me."

"Party you can't be serious!"

Party just ignores Fun Ghoul and takes another step forward.

Korse just studies him and smiles, a depraved, predatory grin.

"Party!"

The three Killjoys behind Party Poison are about to surge forward and pull him back when the sound of an engine rumbles across the distance.

A dirty, white van speeds across the barren landscape, stopping not far from them. The door slides open and Show Pony fires the first shot, covering the running exit of Cherri Cola.

It's Dr. Death. Somehow he knew where they were and that they were in trouble and he's come to rescue them and each Killjoy breathes with relief even when everything explodes into chaos.

The Draculoid holding her is surprised enough to slacken his grip and the girl runs from him quickly, towards the closest Killjoy. Korse makes to grab for her, but for once, she is faster.

Party immediately pulls her small body behind his, firing his now un-holstered bright yellow ray gun as they move backwards, towards the waiting van.

He shoots at Korse's hand and the Exterminator drops his weapon, screaming at his Draculoids to stop their escape.

Cherri shoots down one of the Draculoids as the Fabulous Killjoys run to the van, shooting on the way. They all know better than to mess with an Exterminator, Korse especially, and their retreat is rapid.

The girl is heaved in unceremoniously and pushed to the back of the vehicle.

She doesn't have a chance to thank her rescuers before they begin to fight.

"What the hell were you thinking, Party?"

"What do you mean what was I thinking? I was buying us time!"

"You don't buy time with your life!"

"Kobra is right Party. That was a dangerous stunt you pulled back there!"

"I didn't see you coming up with a better plan Ghoul!"

"Don't yell at Ghoul! Not for being right!"

Jet Star interrupts.

"Whatever happened, happened. Would anyone like to at least know the name of the girl we rescued from those bastards?"

All eyes turn to the girl.

She smiles at them shyly. She's young but she knows that they're fighting over something that she was the cause of.

"I'm Missile Kid."

She won't give them her real name.

Not yet.

* * *

"Can I come in Party?"

Party Poison doesn't let anyone into his room. Instead, he chooses to step out and meet Dr. Death Defying in the hallway.

"What do you need Dr. Death?"

"Just came by to talk, kid."

"If you're here to talk to me about what happened this morning, save it. I already got lectured by the guys."

"Guess it didn't get through your thick skull yet."

"What?"

"Whatever the boys told you, it didn't stick. Not that I can see."

"Look, I get it. I should be more careful, blah blah blah. But I had to do something. You know me."

"I do know you Party. And because I know you, I'm here right now."

Party Poison sighs and runs a hand through his hair before turning around, intending to go back to bed.

"If it'll take reminding you that I saved your ass this morning to get you to stick around and listen to me, well then, I already said it."

The red-haired Killjoy stops immediately, hand on the doorknob.

"I know that as the unofficial head of the Fabulous Killjoys you have a lot resting on your shoulders. I get that. You are a great leader, no one will ever deny it. But you shouldn't forget that you're also a friend. A _brother._ I know that your love is so great that you'd rather sacrifice your life than let anything bad happen to any of the others. Don't forget though, that there's only so much you can do. You aren't indestructible. Most importantly, don't forget that your love is returned just as fiercely."

Party clutches the doorknob in a white-knuckled grip.

"Dr. Death, it's just…I couldn't… If anything, _anything_, were to happen to one of them…God, I just…_I couldn't take it again_."

Two faces ghost over his eyes, soft, rounded, female faces that he sees every night, tries to save in every nightmare _but he just can't, he can't, and it's a nightly reminder of just how horribly he's failed before that he wakes up gasping for breath, chest impossibly tight, feeling (maybe even hoping) that his heart will stop and he'll join them. _

Dr. Death Defying nods. He understands.

"I know that there's pain behind that protectiveness, Party… And you hide behind acting tough, and risking yourself, being the best and most daring Killjoy…But I want you, I _need_ you to understand that what you feel is what they feel. When you bleed, _they bleed too_…I guess I'm just trying to say that they need you. Just as much as you need them."

Party Poison finally turns around and looks the older man straight in the eyes.

"I understand Dr. Death. Trust me. I do."

"Good."

"Dr. Death?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we have a third party eavesdropping..."

No sooner do the words come out of his mouth than both men hear a small, feminine gasp followed by the gentle patter of feet moving carefully away.

Dr. Death Defying chuckles, "I'll have a talk with her in the morning. I know she's new and all but that girl needs to learn the rules around here. Have ya'll decided what you're gonna do with her yet?"

Party just shakes his head and steps back into his room.

"Dr. Death?"

"What? Someone else listening in on us?"

Party just snickers and gives him a playful glare, "No…just…thanks for…you know…"

"You don't have to thank me Party. You'll never have to…though I wouldn't mind you putting that daring brain of yours into getting us something yummy to eat. I am seriously sick and tired of eating dog food. It just ain't right…"

The red-haired Killjoy winks at him, "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

**Next up: Missile Kid/Grace!  
**

**Also, if anyone would like to take one of these one shots and expand it into a story, I would be excited to hear that!  
**


	5. Missile Kid I

**Look alive sunshines! How are all you Killjoys doing? I hope you all are having awesome times!**

**Yes, this chapter has taken so very long to post. In fact, this is only Part I! I intend to write a good chapter and then it just kept growing and growing so I had to split it up. Part I is out today, Part II will be up by Friday.**

**So both these parts turned out to be as much about Missile Kid saving Party Poison (which will be seen more in Part II) as Party Poison saving himself. **

**I will admit, these were probably the hardest to write so far as they go all over the place and deal with some topics that are difficult to capture. Regardless, I believe I've finally done an adequate job so I decided to post (believe me, I read and re-read and re-read again everything I write). **

**I HAVE SOME EXCITING NEWS BEFORE REVIEW REPLIES!**

**One: I finally attended an MCR Concert. It was at the 9:30 Club in Washington D.C. and the mosh pit was insane. It was my first time at any concert and OF COURSE I fall ill a couple of days beforehand so that I went in with some bronchitis. I almost passed out from lack of air (it was so hot) and I almost left the front at one point but then I decided to stick it out and WOW, what a night! I left bruised, hoarse, and near deaf but damn it was worth every dollar and more!**

**Two: Graverobber's Zydrate has taken up my challenge and decided to write up a chaptered story of Kobra Kid's chapter! I've seen some of it that she's already written and so kindly sent to me and I can honestly tell you that I. AM. EXCITED. No joke, I think you guys will love it!**

**Three: This is normally something I don't do with stories, but I want to include my audience in some way. It's important to what I have planned for the ending of this collection of stories.**

** SO I HAVE A REQUEST: I need Killjoys for the last chapter! So PM me or in a review tell me your Killjoy's name, basic appearance and attitude info and your Killjoy may appear in the last chapters of this fic. **

**ALSO YOU MUST ANSWER THIS QUESTION: The odds are against you. You are completely overwhelmed and the chance of failure is incredibly high. Do you stay and fight to the last? Or do you choose to give in, if it means lives will not be lost?**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**chaosbulldog: Yup, none of this would be possible without MCR providing the great idea! Seriously, they're geniuses. I can't wait to read the comic that Gerard is developing for the story of the Fabulous Killjoys. As for Grace, I gave her the name Missile Kid for the name that showed up on YouTube. The name listed for her on wikipedia is "Girl" which I think sounds less epic than Missile Kid. And thank you for the shameless plug, because I absolutely loved 'Renegade Killjoy'! In fact, I am eagerly awaiting a next chapter *shameless poke to update***

**AccounNoLongerInUse32: Thank you for the review! I hope that these two Grace/Missile don't dissapoint!**

**The Swim Chick: Yes, I too absolutely love Grace. And I think she does play a pivotal part in the Killjoy universe. They were willing to rescue her and die for her, so I hope I handle the "why" of that in next part up to standards!**

**FabulousxKilljoy: Thank you so much for the review! I enjoy writing so I'm glad that you enjoy it :)**

**Starrina Leonhart: Thank you for leaving a review! Sorry for the late update :S**

**Lacampera: Thank you for the review! And I'm glad you can see the connection between all of these, it was something I really try to convey so I'm glad it's noticed.**

**Knight Thunder: A LOT more memory lines in this chapter and I hope they work out well! Thank you for the review!**

**vampiremoney97: Thank you for the review! Again, I hope this update isn't too late!**

**Skyuni123: Thank you for reviewing!**

**tears of venom: Thanks for leaving a review!**

**Ra MayKaizen: Thank you so much for that review! I really do try hard to make my writing as entertaining and meaningful as possible so I'm glad that you think it beautiful :D**

**Emilie Alicia Wolfe: You are not the only MCR fanfic writier, trust me. There are so many MCR fanfics out there! I'm glad you stumbled across mine :)**

**.stutter: A full length story is in the works! But it will take me a while to refine the idea (and finish this one) before I start the other one up. Thank you so much the encouragement. I love to read that my writing is loved :)**

**Shinn Asuka- Destiny's Warrior: Thank you so much for your review! Also, cool name by the way!**

* * *

FIVE

MISSILE KID

PART I

* * *

Kobra Kid teaches her everything he knows about hacking. Software is his specialty and he tells her, patiently, what codes to punch into the hand-held hacking machine that they use to divest BL/ind. Vending machines of batteries and ray guns.

Fun Ghoul is the hardware guy, and he lets her place the finishing touches on a homemade bazooka. Dr. Death Defying's open mouth when he sees their contraption is priceless and Fun Ghoul high fives her, telling her that she has much to learn and not to listen to Kobra because it's the hardware that really matters. Kobra's software knowledge has nothing on him and Kobra can suck on something (Grace doesn't hear the rest of that phrase, what with Dr Death's hands over her ears as the bearded man chastises the black haired Killjoy).

Show Pony teaches her how to roller skate and Dr. Death Defying lets her play around with the broadcast a couple of times (in reality, his approval consists of not getting mad at her when she takes advantage of his absence to fool around with the equipment).

Jet Star teaches her how to best arrange her frizzy, messy hair so that it doesn't bother her too much, and he takes great care when he trims it for her. He lets her trim _his_ hair, even when Fun Ghoul snickers and tells him that he'll end up with a trippy haircut from hell.

She and Jet Star grin at the black haired Killjoy when Jet's haircut turns out great and then she's cutting everyone's hair, snipping away with the small scissors, tongue sticking out as she concentrates really hard.

Everyone takes a turn sitting in the stool behind the diner, telling her what they want and staying still when she takes the scissors to their head.

She has to stand on a crate (she's too short) and she remembers her mother's gentle hands running through her hair, the combing motion lulling her to sleep. She remembers the care behind the action and she shows each of them the same.

And everyone yields to her but Party Poison.

* * *

He's the one that teaches her how to shoot.

It is done in a moment of anger. _It is right after Draculoids attack them when they're patrolling Zone 6 on foot (they leave the Trans AM parked a few feet away) and she can't defend herself because she doesn't know how to aim. _

_He doesn't speak to her on the ride back home (to be honest, he doesn't speak much to her at all, regardless). _

_They get out of the car and suddenly his hand is around her forearm, pulling her behind the Diner. _

_She struggles and the other Killjoys get out of the car, indignant, asking, yelling,_

_"Party! What the hell are you doing?"_

_Party doesn't listen to them and doesn't stop. He pushes her forward, slams his bright yellow ray gun into her hand. _

_"Shoot."_

_She's scared. Scared of the way he's looking at her, the anger in his eyes._

_"Shoot damn it! You can't be a liability! Shoot!"_

_She's scared but she's strong, she refuses to cry and she raises the weapon with shaking hands, leveling the muzzle, aiming at one of the bull's-eyes spray painted on the wall. _

_She can hear the others' footsteps as they approach and Kobra Kid is yelling at his brother, furious, livid,_

_"She's just a kid!"_

_Party is good at ignoring him and he just yells at her again, screaming at her to shoot._

_She does. She hits it dead center. ._

* * *

_"He didn't mean it, Grace."_

_"I don't care. I hate him."_

_Kobra Kid frowns. _

_"I know Party can be a real dick sometimes, but he doesn't mean it. He's just…he's dealing with a lot of crap."_

_"I still don't care."_

_Kobra sighs._

_"Come on Grace, give him another chance? For me?"_

_She broods for a few seconds before giving in to the honest care in Kobra's voice._

_"He has to earn it."_

_The blond Killjoy smiles at her "Trust me. He will."_

_There's not much evidence supporting him (Party rarely talks to her, he never calls her by her real name and he avoids her any chance he gets) but there is something in her that hopes Kobra Kid is proven right._

* * *

True to her word, she gives the Fabulous Killjoy another chance. She observes him from afar, watching him and seeing how he acts around the others. She sneaks out of her room at night and stands right behind a corner, just listening to him and Dr. Death talk about anything. She can't deny that she finds him interesting, that he intrigues her.

Two months later, Party Poison earns her trust.

He reluctantly takes her on a patrolling mission near Zone 5. It's more of a walk around to clear his head and he'd wanted Fun Ghoul to come with him but Ghoul is too busy tinkering with some scraps they'd found the day before and Kobra, Jet and Dr. Death are wrapped up in a high-stakes poker game, bidding on the last pack of cigarettes.

It's the kid or Show Pony and with an almighty groan he tells her to get her gear ready. He stares disapprovingly at the fact that she chooses to wear only a t-shirt and that she's rolled up her jeans into makeshift shorts and though he says nothing she still doesn't like him but she's bored out of her mind and the prospect of proving herself to the red-haired leader is exhilarating.

They're only supposed to check out Zone 5 but things never seem to work out in their favor.

Before she knows it, they're running from Dracs on motorbikes. Her feet eat up ground quickly, _too quickly,_ _catching on a rock, on each other, on something _and she falls with a dull thud that seems to echo across the barren landscape, her skull smashing into the ground.

Her vision swims and lurches but she hears something skid to a stop next to her. For a moment, she thinks that it's a Draculoid and she resists weakly.

"It's me, Kid. The Draculoids are beating it."

Sure enough, she can hear the sound of the engines growing fainter and fainter above the pounding in her ears.

She's about to ask why they're leaving when she tentatively opens her eyes and looks at Party Poison, then at the sky behind him.

It's rumbling and cloudy and the weather out here is so unpredictable that tendrils of fear shoot through her stomach because she's heard Dr. Death's broadcasts before. Today's weather forecast rings loudly in her ears.

Party snaps her out of it.

"Come on, get up. We have to get out of here right the fuck now. We're gonna have to run for it."

She tries to stand but her left ankle buckles from pain and she's crashing forward, getting ready to meet the ground again before Party catches her.

"Can you even walk?"

She is unsure and makes that fact known with a weary shrug. That is all Party needs, and he lets out an impossibly long-syllabled curse.

He's in the process of slinging her arm around his waist when the first drops start to fall. At first they don't feel like anything on her bare arms, and she stares transfixed as the droplets run down slowly on the light brown of her skin.

But as more and more keeping landing on her exposed flesh, the areas affected begin to tingle, a gentle buzzing feeling that soon escalades to the point that she thinks tiny ants are nibbling away at her skin.

When she feels bees starting to sting is when she panics because it feels like small fires have suddenly ignited on the top of her hands and the entire lengths of her arms. She quickly unrolls her jeans and she understands with crushing realization just why everyone wears fully protective clothing, even in the heat.

She curls her arms around her chest, hoping to decrease the surface area available for the burning droplets when suddenly something is being draped over her head, something large enough to cover her upper body.

It feels claustrophobic almost until the smell of it hits her nose and it is _familiar_.

She is hoisted up then, arms going under her knees and her head comes to rest against something warm and soft and a staccato _thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud_ infiltrates her ears.

Party's heartbeat.

And it's Party's leather jacket over her now.

She remembers that he wears nothing but a black T-shirt underneath with chilling awareness. She wants to protest, to tell him that she can take it, she's not weak. But Party's grip on her is strong and her head is pounding away, a beat painfully loud in her ears.

He walks quickly, even bearing her weight, and he makes no sound as he moves, and her mind drifts.

When they get home and the shocked faces greet them, she's quickly thrust into Jet Star's arms.

The movement feels like Party is getting rid of her, a _here, she's your problem now_ kind of action.

It takes her only seconds to see that Party's chest is heaving and she takes the thought back.

Had he run them here?

Her eyes drop to his arms, shaking, raw, and red.

When Dr. Death and Fun Ghoul mix some sort of poultice she hops to where they are, ignoring her hurt ankle and their worried glances.

She takes the small bowl and hops back to where Party is sitting, still trying to catch his breath.

She is quiet as she takes the small towel and cleans gently along his arm.

* * *

Missile Kid remembers the week-ago event with a certain sense of detached awe. Since then, Party has been mover civil with her, regarding her with grudging acceptance that borders on reluctant affection.

And it is the hope of further strengthening that connection that has her standing before his door.

She knows that entrance into his space is strictly prohibited. She hasn't even seen Kobra Kid, _his brother_, go inside.

But she chews her lip when another muffled cry reaches her ears.

Her hands turn the knob impossibly slowly; she steps inside and closes the door behind her. She strides across the room, glancing briefly at the walls covered in sketches, drawings, and paintings.

They depict images of a world she's never seen but she cannot stop now.

She approaches the bed with some apprehension, and the sight of his nightmare-captive state stabs at her heart.

The young Killjoys rests her small, gentle hands on either side of Party's face.

Party stills immediately.

He whispers a set of names, tentative, hoping, and broken-hearted at the same time.

And suddenly she understands.

She understands what he is missing, why he avoids her, why a flash of concealed-but-still-there pain crosses his eyes whenever she laughs.

* * *

The broken glass hums.

He fights, _fights and fights and fights_, but within a moment they have him pinned. Their hands dig into his shoulder blades and each of his wrists.

There must be at least a dozen of them. The Exterminator that controls them is nameless.

_It was a younger – and human and mortal – Korse._

It isn't long after the bombs have dropped and anarchy feeds on what remains of the world they used to know, _2013 and Better Living Industries rises from the ashes, preaching reconstruction and survival. The shining light in the darkness, they promise freedom from the chains of imperfection and all that is different. _

_Fear transforms people, breeds conformity and _

He is not yet the leader of the rebellion against BL/ind.

He hasn't seen or heard from any of his brothers, _Mikey, Frank, Ray, _since the days leading up to the bombing.

_A year ago almost and it feels like forever._

But he has his family with him. He has his wife and their baby girl and he can bear it for them.

And now, the masked, white-clothed employees of a company that he only mistrusted before and now loathes with all his being are holding his wife and daughter. They've found them, in the rubble, in the half-standing home that they've been hiding in for the past month.

It happens in a matter of seconds _and doesn't everything?_

_One second and_

They point a ray gun to her head. Both of them. They've no need of women, much less a child.

A male child maybe, to be raised and molded by the company, though that idea has yet to be thought of.

They only need men. Males to foster their ranks, and if everything goes right and they get lucky, men who are strong enough to be placed in the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit or to become Exterminators.

His wife looks at him, eyes wide, sorry and sad, but burning with all the love in the world that makes his heart ache even more, _if that's even possible._

His daughter's head is buried in her mother's arms, _Shh, baby, it's gonna be all right. Count to seventeen and close your eyes. Tight. And when you open them again, everything will be fine._

He almost wishes that she would turn around and look at him, so that he could see her face one last time.

_Two seconds and…_

_He stares in muted horror, he cannot look away. Determined, as if he can will scene before him to rewrite itself less gruesome. _

_A lump forms in his throat and a deep weight sinks in his middle and he keeps looking forward. There is ice on his spine, rivers in his eyes._

_And he is in pain. Physical pain. He's not even forty and he's having a heart attack. If only that were the case._

_They release him then, whether sensing he's done fighting or something else, he doesn't know and doesn't care to. Failing to rise on his unsteady legs, he crawls forward, shattered glass and stone digging into his palms._

_His breathing, which is becoming harder and harder to maintain, is sharp and thin. _

_The room is spinning. His balance, even this low, wavers and he almost pitches forward._

_This can't be happening._

_Bile in his throat. This is a nightmare, a dream of torment–it isn't rational, reality isn't so ruthless._

_Nothing in the last few months has been reality. Wake up, he tells himself. _

_Desperation. _

_And the relief never comes._

_Through the moist fog that has gathered in his vision, he manages to get near to their fallen bodies. He doesn't know how he can stand to be this close. He clutches at her lifeless hand, willing her fingers to close around his._

_Please, please, please, God please…praying the scene has undone itself, that his morbid mind has only played a cruel trick on his heart. _

_But the image before him remains the same. He touches her face then, softly, gently, feeling the cooling skin for what he knows but doesn't want to believe is the last time. _

_He tries to tell himself that they didn't suffer. That a shot to the head made it painless, somehow better. _

_That unspoken plea in his mind tastes like lies._

_The scene burns into the back of his eyes, branded there into his memory._

_His lungs constrict as if his entire body is frozen in denial._

He allows his gaze to fall further, an emptiness settling over him.

_Daddy! Daddy!_

_Her voice resonates in his ears, inside his head. Hurting, hurting like nothing he'd ever known before. _

_And then his throat finally allows him release as he screams out his loss. _

_Loud, hoarse and broken and he knows that this mistake today will haunt him for as long as he lives._

* * *

Party Poison feels hands on his face and he launches awake.

He's had too many close encounters, _too many Draculoids and people going for his throat, _and his mind is instantly alert.

His hand goes to his ray gun, always kept beside him, even when he sleeps.

His index finger tenses on the trigger as he brings it up and then –

"Party?"

Recognition fills and calms his mind. Followed closely by anger.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

* * *

_He escapes._

_BL/Ind. uses its bombs indiscriminately and not long after they wrestle him off the ground from all that he's lost and try to drag him away, what remains of the building begins to crumble._

_In the resulting confusion and panic he yanks his arms away and runs in the opposite direction._

_Ray gun fire follows him but he dodges, drunk on numb adrenaline._

_He sears the place, the building and its location, into his memory._

_A promise._

_He will return one day, cheers of sweet revenge in his throat._

_He moves around, like a ghost. He goes from place to place, inciting rebellion, planting ideas, the most dangerous thing of all. _

_He stays in one location only as long as it takes to convince those that remain that they need to fight._

_There is a resistance movement running beside his own, started by others._

_Dr. Death Defying, Fun Ghoul, Jet Star and Kobra Kid._

_The names feel familiar for some reason, but he is too busy letting anger consume his thoughts._

_He becomes an addict once more as he allows the hatred to feed on him; he allies himself with the darkness of his thoughts, acts on every impulse of a wretched and barely-beating heart._

_It isn't surprising when they catch him again._

_Two to zero and he feels the undeniable urge to laugh._

_The holding facility is unimpressive. _

_White walls, white floors, grey bar cells. _

_There are others around him, they've been crammed into one space like cattle._

_He insults every single one of the Draculoids. He uses every curse word in every combination he can, even when some of the others beg him to be quiet. _

_An Asian woman steps closer to the bars, glaring directly at him._

_Her suit is clean, crisp and colorless._

_"Jesus, you bastards are the same. No personality, huh?"_

_"What is your name, zonerunner?"_

_"Fuck you. Want a last name too?"_

_Her lips purse and she says nothing, merely nods to two Draculoids at her side._

_Ray guns in hand they open the cell door and push everyone away._

_Before he knows it, they've got him outside. They kick his legs from behind, twisting his arms back, forcing him to kneel in front of the woman._

_"What is your name?"_

_He spits at her._

_The woman doesn't react for several seconds and when she does her voice is deathly calm, almost silent, like a snake._

_"You cannot win, whoever you are. You've lost. Cease to be a poison to this world and accept the perfect cure. Conform."_

_He doesn't reply. He doesn't need to. His eyes speak, volumes and hurricanes of anger and rebellion._

_A cacophony of violent, turbulent human emotion, raw and undiluted. Everything that should grate on her last nerves._

_Her mouth becomes a straight line._

_"If you will not conform willingly, then you will conform by force. You are sentenced to immediate and indefinite drug administration. Before, however, you will be made physically presentable. You must be sterilized."_

_He struggles more at her words. _

_His mind is all he has left. He cannot let them take that away. Not after everything he's lost already. _

_One of the Draculoids clips him across the jaw. Another two surge forward. One to help those already holding him and another carries a bag that clinks ominously as the masked being sets it down and opens it._

_He can barely see through the curtain of hair that shrouds his vision. A glimpse is enough to learn that the Draculoid in front of him is now holding a pair of small shears._

_They force his head down, fingers wrapping around the back of his neck and squeezing. _

_The hands pull mercilessly at his hair and he struggles not to cry out as the cruel cutting begins. _

* * *

_They had force fed him the first dosage of pills when the unexpected rescue arrives. _

_Alarms blare all over the detention center and he can hear mutters of excitement from his fellow prisoners._

_Those that have yet to be "sterilized" that is. _

_The Asian woman departs rather quickly, a full escort of Draculoids around her. The rest stay to fight off the intruders._

_The battle must have been short lived because the next thing he knows, he can feel hands on his arms through the haze of the drugs._

_"Holy shit! Kobra, is it really him?"_

_"Fuck. No fucking way…"_

_"Jet! Go get Dr. Death!"_

_"Look at what those fuckers did to him!"_

_"Pony, take his left leg. Ghoul, you take his right."_

_"How much do you think they gave him?"_

_And the rest of the conversation is lost to a blanket of silent black._

* * *

_He wakes up the next day, more than a little disoriented._

_The five faces that stare at him are too much._

_Two he doesn't recognize. The other three however…_

_The other three are enough to make him hyperventilate._

_This must be another of BL/ind.'s tricks. Another torture to break him, so they can put him back together however they want._

_ He refuses to give in until the man he is sure is not his brother throws his arms around him and hugs him tight._

_And illusions and hallucinations do not hug you. They do not cry into your shoulder, do not pat you on the back and say that they've been looking everywhere for you, that they are glad you've finally been found._

_So he hugs his brother back._

* * *

_He's with them a week before he begins to realize how much he's changed._

_Sure they've all changed. They're tanner, a little skinnier even. His brother looks like a rent boy (and he says it to his face, to much laugher and agreement), Ray's got some metal chic going and Frank's got some grunge style to his outfit. Dr. Death almost looks like a 21st century pirate and he doesn't even want to go into Show Pony's getup._

_Yet they're essentially the same inside._

_Except him._

_The day after he wakes up reveals that none of them have any idea where their families are._

_After they'd been split up from him, they'd stayed together, had even managed to secure transportation away from the dying city before they'd been ambushed by BL/Ind. The three of them had stayed behind to fight off the horde of Draculoids and give their wives and children a better chance at escape. Along the way Dr. Death and Show Pony had found them, given them refuge at the Diner where they all now lived._

_It had become the unofficial headquarters of the resistance movement for the majority of the zones._

_And now, they knew nothing of what had happened to the families they'd tried so hard to save. Whether they'd gotten away successfully, or been captured, or killed… _

_That outcome remained a painful mystery._

_But at least they hadn't witnessed their brutal murder. Hadn't watched their execution, helpless to do anything._

_Maybe they can see the guilt in his eyes. _

_Can they see the blood on his hands?_

_Their motives against BL/Ind. are more or less pure. They want to restore freedom, they still believe in the power of the will to live, truly live as thinking, unique, irreplaceable beings, capable of good, capable of changing the world. _

_Their excitement towards that purpose is clear. They are fiercely loyal to that idea, willing to die for that cause._

_And when he looks within, he doesn't find those feelings. He remembers they were there once; he can almost call them up. But his motives are tainted by hatred now, by the lust for blood and revenge pulsing strongly inside his hollow heart._

_They must see the change. At the rate he's been shooting down their plans, they'd be blind not to notice. And even on the rare occasions when he manages to hold his tongue, he's sure the bitter anger in his eyes is enough._

_They don't pry about what happened to him. They don't ask about the whereabouts of his wife and daughter and he doesn't volunteer that information._

_But it feels all wrong. It feels wrong to not be able to trust them, to be out of place amongst the people he's always belonged with. It feels wrong to feel so defeated. _

_If he's honest with himself, the missions before he'd been captured, the plans to burn BL/Ind. to the ground were as much for revenge as a means to end up dead._

_His taunts at the holding center were as much to get on the Draculoids' nerves, as it was to force at least one of them to turn around and shoot him._

_He feels like a broken bone that's healed incorrectly and he knows, for the first time with pounding conviction, that he doesn't want to stay that way._

* * *

_"You can't go."_

_"You can't stop me Kobra."_

_The name is foreign on his tongue but he understands the importance of the new identities. _

_"We've just found you…we can't lose you again Gee. We can't."_

_The tears in his brother's eyes hurt._

_"You won't lose me. Something needs to be found before you can lose it, and let's face it, the man you rescued from that cell wasn't me. Not the real me anyway. And I need to fix that."_

_"You just need time. You went through a lot, and –"_

_"No. No more time, Ghoul... I'm not okay. I'm not, I'm lost and I need to find my way again. And that's something I need to do on my own. You've helped me enough, believe me. Please."_

_Jet Star shifts in his seat, sending a glance to Dr. Death, both of them silent._

_"Dr. Death, tell him! Tell him he can't go."_

_Dr. Death winces at the tone of desperation in Kobra Kid's voice. _

_"It's up to him Kobra."_

_The blond Killjoy turns to his brother. "So that's it then? You're going to fucking run away?"_

_"I'm not running away Kobra. I'm running. There's a difference there, I know there is. I just need to find it. I need to remember everything that I've always known but that I've forgotten in the last year…There was…There was a part of me that was glad when I got caught,"_

_There are sharp intakes of breath all around the room but he forces himself to continue._

_"There was a part of me that wanted to die. I gave up. I gave in, and that's not who I want to be. It's not who I _am. _I need to remember."_

_Kobra Kid's shoulders sag and he looks elsewhere; his brother's confession is too much to bear without turning away. _

_"How long?"_

_He doesn't know what to answer. How long till he finds his way in the dark and out of harm?_

_"I don't know. But I'll come back. I promise you. I promise all of you."_

_"You'll take the bike won't you?"_

_"Yeah. Unless you need it…"_

_"Just a question," Dr. Death answers, "There'll be Killjoys along you path. I'll put out a message on the waves for them to help you should you need it. One more thing…"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I'll try to use the broadcast to contact you, tell you that we're all fine. I can't use your real identity on the air though. Did you ever come up with a name?"_

_He thinks for a minute and finally shakes his head._

_"When I find myself, I'll know."_

* * *

_He thinks about a lot of things as he moves through the barren landscape. _

_He uses his supplies wisely and stops for gas at the various abandoned stations._

_But mostly, he just drives and drives and drives, looking for the place where he lost it all and where he's hoping he'll find everything he's looking for._

_When he gets there the building has long since finished crumbling and falling to the ground. _

_The large pieces that have not eroded away, however, are enough for him to recognize the site for what it is._

_He gets as close as he dares, and when the familiar burn stings his eyes, he doesn't blink the traitorous tears away. He doesn't clench his jaw and push the feelings down._

_He simply closes his eyes and cries, because sometimes you need to die inside to rise again from your own ashes._

_And sometimes you only hear the music when your heart begins to break._

* * *

_He comes close to capture only twice._

_The third time he encounters Draculoids however, he is hidden, they do not see him, and he decides to follow them._

_It is pitch black except for whatever weak moonlight penetrates the methane-filled atmosphere._

_He turns the lights on his motorcycle off and trails the pair at a good meter distance._

_Their much more powerful and updated bikes make so much noise it masks his own._

_He sees a small building in the distance and because he now knows where they'd been going, he quickly dispatches both of them from behind._

_When he gets to the warehouse, he uses one of the Draculoid's bikes to crash through the locked door._

_What he finds inside is enough to make his jaw drop. _

* * *

_The Trans AM is breathtaking. He runs his fingers over the hood of the car, makes sure that all the tires and windows are there before he forces himself to move on. _

_Behind the car are rows and rows of shelves. They're full of random things; books, clothing, electronics._

_All colorful, all reminders of a past life._

_Everything that BL/Ind. would have confiscated and eradicated. _

_He wonders whether there are other warehouses like this, where BL/Ind. collects seized items deemed "imperfect" before destroying everything. _

_He knows there isn't much time before their reinforcements arrive so he begins to grab everything that might be necessary._

_The various but few first aid kits go first, followed closely by blankets and the majority of the electronic equipment. He throws the things in the trunk before going back to check through the clothes. He finds some jeans his size, boots as well and a blue leather jacket that immediately catches his eye. He grabs other clothes, guessing at the size of those waiting for him back home._

_He adds some random books. Definitely snatches the dilapidated but thick drawing pad and the small box of crayons, paints, pencils and pens next to it._

_He is busy looking for possible food when he spots it._

_The dusty label reads "Fire Truck Red" and he grabs all five cans._

* * *

_For a few horrifying seconds, the engine does not start when he turns the key in the ignition._

_And when it roars to life, that sound alone is beautiful._

* * *

_He stops at the fourth gas station he sees. He makes sure to park the car behind the building and lock all the doors._

_The smooth contour of the can of hair dye is cool against his fingers._

_The bathroom is in impressive condition; the majority of the mirror above the sink is intact and the faucet works, even if it takes a full two minutes for the water to sputter out._

_He sets his new yellow ray gun (courtesy of a successful trade off with a Killjoy yesterday) on the sink before using what used to be a fork to pry the can of hair dye open._

_The whole process takes a while and by the time he's done his fingers are numb from the cold water._

_He looks at himself in the mirror, at the hair, now a rebellious red, that's grown long._

_The memory of the vicious haircut at the hands of BL/Ind. surfaces only dimly._

_It's certainly a strange moment for everything to click into place, but life is full of those haphazard discoveries._

_This entire journey has been about self-realization._

_Some pieces are still missing. _

_But he remembers. He remembers everything and finally, he's found his way again._

* * *

_Before, songwriting had served as a way to organize his thoughts and emotions, to identify them, accept them, express them and learn from them._

_He doesn't see why that should have changed so when he gets back to the car, he writes everything down._

_The sentences are bulleted, disconnected, maybe even nonsensical to anyone but him._

_When he finishes however, he feels happy._

_"Kill the party with me."_

_He reads the phrase that he's just scribbled down on his hand for lack of a better surface._

_The words will not leave his mind._

* * *

_"Cease to be a poison to this world and accept the perfect cure. Conform."_

_He jolts awake from the nightmare and hits his arm on the steering wheel. The padding of the blue leather jacket absorbs most of the blow and he wipes his clammy hands on his faded grey jeans, playing with the yellow bandana he's tied below his left knee. _

_He chuckles to himself. Did that woman really think _he_ was the one poisoning the world?_

* * *

_These are the danger days._

_He muses at the strange poetic feel to that sentence as he blows an errant lock of red hair away from his face._

_He's too concentrated on the image he's currently painting on the Trans AM._

_The black widow contrasts stunningly with the pale car paint, playing nicely into his thoughts about danger._

_He adds a lightning bolt to the spider's abdomen. _

_Why?_

_Because he can. _

_Besides, it gives the picture an edge, a sense of flair and style that he knows he doesn't lack._

* * *

_He has another nightmare about the time he spent at the detention center._

_The woman's words collide with the phrase that's been stuck inside his mind and suddenly he knows his new name._

_He whispers it to the night air, his tongue exploring the edges of the alliterative syllables in earnest. _

_It feels right in his mouth, feels right against his ears, the rhythm to a song of a heart made of flesh._

_It's time to go home._

* * *

_When his brother's absence reaches the two-month mark, Kobra Kid thinks he's about ready to lose his mind._

_He and the others keep an ear out for any news._

_Weekly, Dr. Death broadcasts to all Killjoys the importance of looking out for one another, especially for "wanderers." _

_After three and a half months, the rumors start up._

_There's stories about a man who shoots Draculoids two at a time. He drives a Trans AM, a spider painted on the hood. He walks around with a strange blue and white and randomly spotted mask, a cross between a mouse and a cat. _

_Kobra Kid can only dare to hope._

* * *

_"I told you I'd be back."_

_For a moment, none of them want to believe._

_But as he removes his mask and gives them a shit-eating grin, they surge forward._

_Fun Ghoul laughs at the strange mask (MouseKat they later learn) and Jet Star asks him if his pants could be any tighter._

_Show Pony voices his absolute love of the shocking red hair and Dr. Death jokes with him, telling him that he has to buy "the prodigal Killjoy" dinner first._

_Kobra Kid is speechless until his brother smirks at him and tells him he still looks like a man for hire._

_The blond Killjoy opens his mouth to say his brother's name when the older man interrupts him, raising two fingers to his head in a sassy, mocking salute._

_"Party Poison at your service, Kobra Kid. And don't fucking wear it out."_

_When Kobra Kid smiles, his eyes are misty._

_"You look like a damn cherry lollipop."_

_"A fire hydrant." Fun Ghoul adds._

_"Kool-aid." Jet Star grins._

_Party Poison's laughter is infectious and soon they all have tears in their eyes…_

* * *

"What the fuck do you think you're doing Grace?"

Her name, _finally her name_, sounds like glass on his irate lips.

"How did you even get in here?"

Silence gets her nowhere. Silence makes her look guilty. But she just can't seem to find the words to express what she wants to say.

She wants to tell him that she knows now, that she understands. She wants to tell him that he is not alone.

She wants to break the awkward silence that now befalls the room, wants to be the first to say she's sorry.

The words will not come above the knot in her throat so she just turns sharply and flees.

He does not follow her and she can't decide how much that hurts.

* * *

The boots fly onto her feet, quietly.

No one is on watch tonight _they're safe enough out here, no Draculoids come this far_ and she's thankful.

She roots through her satchel, fingers searching within the dilapidated leather until she finds it.

The letter she had written yesterday.

_Tiny, colorful pictures surround the word 'Mom'. _

She had planned to ask one of the Killjoys to take her to the Mailbox out in Route Guano but now she, _at this very moment_, feels an undeniable impulse to run and run and run.

So that is exactly what she does.

She exits silently and takes one last look at the Diner as her footsteps draw her away.

* * *

Party Poison sits on his bed and puts his head in hands, pulling on his crimson strands of hair.

He feels like he should have run after her _but the aftermath of his dreams and nightmares are still in his mouth and if he closes his eyes he can almost feel the hand of his wife in his, can hear Bandit's laughter, can feel the tugging, hurting hands of the Draculoids as they cut his hair._

He remembers the look in Missile Kid's eyes.

He has never been one to turn his back on those that needed his help, and that's exactly the plea that inhabited her young, _too young_, eyes.

* * *

The horror that rises in his throat when he discovers her empty room will not be quenched by anything.

An all too familiar panic settles inside him and Party Poison has to remember who is before the other, _Gerard_, can allow the emotion to overwhelm him.

He knows better to go off on his own without telling anyone so he takes a few precious seconds to shake Jet Star half-awake, tell him what has happened, and then he's off on one of the bikes.

_Missile Kid, where are you?_

* * *

**Do I still have your interest? Part II of Missile Kid/Grace should be up by Friday!**


	6. Missile Kid II

**Look alive sunshines! How are all you Killjoys doing? PART II IS NOW UP! Sorry it took so long to update XD **

**Again, Missile Kid's**** part(s) were the hardest to write so far. **

**Once again, the exciting news is that Graverobber's Zydrate (now Motorbaby) has taken up my challenge and decided to write up a chaptered story of Kobra Kid's chapter! I've seen some of it that she's already written and so kindly sent to me and I can honestly tell you that I. AM. EXCITED. No joke, I think you guys will love it!**

**AGAIN This is normally something I don't do with stories, but I want to include my audience in some way. It's important to what I have planned for the ending of this collection of stories.**

** SO I HAVE A REQUEST: I need Killjoys for the last chapter! So PM me or in a review tell me your Killjoy's name, basic appearance and attitude info and your Killjoy may appear in the last chapters of this fic. **

**ALSO YOU MUST ANSWER THIS QUESTION: The odds are against you. You are completely overwhelmed and the chance of failure is incredibly high. Do you stay and fight to the last? Or do you choose to give in, if it means lives will not be lost?**

**ONE LAST THING VERY IMPORTANT AFTER the next chapter, which, sadly, features the one time that Party Poison cannot be saved, I want to do a Plus One type of thing where I would like to explore what happens after SING. Would you loyal readers prefer me to write those chapters on this same story, or create a new story page? THANK YOU GUYS FOR YOUR HELP :) I APPRECIATE IT :D**

* * *

FIVE

MISSILE KID

PART II

* * *

Missile Kid doesn't know where she is.

She keeps to the road, but as the rising sun kills the freezing night temperatures, she feels like she is walking through thick sand.

_One-oh-nine in the sky, _Dr. Death Defying broadcasts most days. Now she thinks he has been lying all along, purposefully underestimating.

She's maybe three to four hours into her walk when she realizes that she's left the road long ago.

The letter feels heavy in her hands and mirages dance across her vision.

Ghostly images of her mother and father and sister dominate the scenery at first.

Then she imagines she sees the towering white of Battery City.

Then come the Fabulous Killjoys, _Fun Ghoul, Jet Star, Kobra Kid and Party Poison._

Last she sees Draculoids. There are three of them, walking the other way until one seems to spot her and then they're all turning toward her.

As they come closer and closer and closer, she realizes that they aren't illusions.

* * *

Party Poison has been looking for hours.

Dr. Death has contacted him over the radio that he's stuffed in his pocket, asked him what the plan of action was.

_"She could come back to the Diner, Dr. Death, you should stay where you are. I took the way to Route Guano. Kobra and Jet, you pair up and head in the opposite direction. Ghoul, pack up the Trans AM and bring Show Pony and Cherri to where I am."_

_He rarely gives orders at all because they consult every matter as a team, working together always._

_It is times like these that he remembers that he is the leader and that he needs to make decisions, the kind that could either save or condemn an innocent little girl._

_Not for the first time he is aware of the weight on his shoulders._

_But he rises to the challenge._

_He always has._

* * *

The Draculoids grip her arms.

There's something wrong and she can't find back. She tries to find the will to scream but barely anything rises out of her parched throat.

There's a heaviness in her limbs, her blood feels hot in her veins and she is powerless to stop them.

None of them draw their rayguns. It takes just one to hold her, to grab her and swing her over his shoulders, slung there like a catch, something captured.

Another walks beside his partner and the other disappears somewhere far ahead.

"We take her back to base."

The voice is monotone.

"Yes. Exterminator Korse will decide what to do."

* * *

Party Poison drives down Route Guano until he reaches the Mailbox. He's never actually visited it unlike the others, Show Pony and Dr. Death included. He's seen them put things inside but he's never participated in the actions, not even when they all insisted at some point, that he should.

He's perfectly aware of what the Mailbox symbolizes and he knows with painful inner clarity that he's not ready for it yet.

There is no sign of Missile Kid there.

He turns the bike around and for whatever reason, whatever secret turns of the universe that dictate one fate over another, he drives off the road and to the right.

* * *

Fun Ghoul calls in to say they're only a few minutes away from the Mailbox when he spots the Draculoids in the distance.

"I see Missile Kid. I'm about a mile off course to the right of Route Guano. I need you guys here quickly, I have a bad feeling that this firefight will go all Costa Rica on us."

Fun Ghoul is still cursing as he stuffs the radio back into his pocket.

The Draculoid to the left of the one carrying Missile Kid must have heard something because he turns suddenly, drawing his white weapon.

Party makes an instant decision and he leans down into the bike, aligning his lithe body with the machine and with fearlessness, he drives straight into the Draculoid.

Things happen in matter of seconds.

One, two, three and four and he skids with the bike, executing a fluid motion of jumping off and to the side.

The motion flows perfectly until a combination of bad luck and interrupted physics _the Draculoid caught underneath the bike, jerking its motion and slowing its velocity_ throws him off, and he lands wrong, the left side of his torso slamming into the ground with undeniable brute force.

* * *

Five and six and the Draculoid has slung Missile Kid down from his shoulder and placed her on the ground, confident that she will be no trouble, _her weakness earlier is enough proof_.

This is a once in a lifetime chance.

Finally, _finally _a Killjoy at his mercy. The zonerunner has killed his partner but that is inconsequential, when faced with such an opportunity.

He approaches cautiously.

The Killjoy is coming back around, returning from the confusion and chaos of the impact. He is stirring, trying to get up and his gloved hand is reaching for his raygun.

The Draculoid can see the bright yellow weapon at the edge of his left peripheral vision.

The collision must have been so powerful that it liberated the laser blaster from its holster and inertia did the rest.

The Killjoy is helpless and the Draculoid steps closer.

There is something familiar about the desert rat and as the dust clears he sees the shocking red hair and things click into place.

_Executive Order #1: Eliminate all opposition. Rebellion is unacceptable. Difference is condemnable. Progress requires conformation and complete assimilation. _

_Executive Order #2: Primary targets are the Fabulous Killjoys. Exterminate on sight._

_ Exception On Authority of Chief Exterminator Korse: Fabulous Killjoy leader, alias Party Poison, is to be captured on sight and brought in for questioning. Any force necessary is approved._

Were he able to feel pride anymore, Draculoid #235 would have felt it. 

* * *

Party Poison regains a sense of consciousness to see a Draculoid standing above him, white raygun drawn and pointed straight at him.

"Do not move."

Party ignores him and his hand moves in search of his own weapon.

"Do not move, Killjoy Party Poison. I will not hesitate to open fire."

The discovery that his raygun is not where it is supposed to be stills him.

He's trapped.

* * *

Missile watches what is happening through hazy eyes.

She can barely breathe through the dread that assails her throat.

Party Poison will pay for her mistake.

And that is something she cannot allow.

It's the last of her strength, but she forces her body to move and move quietly. She spots the yellow raygun not far.

She remembers Party shouting at her to shoot only a week ago.

She takes the gun in trembling hands.

But this isn't a bulls-eye painted on a wall.

This is not an inanimate target.

And still she shoots, as love and its fierce need to protect and save overtakes any inhibitions.

* * *

Party Poison hears the body drop to the ground, where it remains unmoving.

He looks across, drawing in heavy breaths, and sees Missile Kid.

She looks back at him, his yellow raygun _smoking now_ clutched tightly in her small hands.

And then she pitches back, as unmoving as the body beside him.

_No, no, no, no…_

It hurts to breathe, his left side burns but still he sits up with a scream of impotence, of fear, of anger, of pain, of desperation and he stumbles to where Missile Kid lies.

Her wheezing breath blows across her chapped and cracked lips against the palm of his hand and he feels like crying from relief.

Party observes her closely, observes the sweat that covers her face, feels the heat that radiates from her like fire and he knows what's wrong with her in an instant.

_Heat stroke._

He removes her bomber hat first, followed by her blue, yellow and red vest.

_Water, dammit, he needs lots and lots of water to cool her off._

He needs to get her away from here but there is no shade, no shade in this damn desert so he has to do what he can.

He stretches his body above her, removes his leather jacket gingerly and holds it above them.

He can feel the hot sun on his neck but it doesn't matter.

His ribs scream in protest but it doesn't matter.

_Come on, come on_, _where are they?_

* * *

"Fuck, step on the gas will you Cherri?"

Cherri Cola just glares at Fun Ghoul. "I'm driving as fast as I can Ghoul. We won't help anyone if we burn the tires off the Trans AM."

Fun Ghoul returns the other man's glare and shouts up at Show Pony, who is standing on the back seat, upper body out through the sunroof of the car.

"Anything?"

"Holy frick, I see something!"

"Well is it them or Dracs?"

"I think it's them! Only one White and he's on the ground and not moving."

Both Killjoys at the front understand what Show Pony is talking about seconds later, when they see for themselves.

Fun Ghoul's heart plummets when he sees the crashed bike but then he catches sight of Party Poison's blue leather jacket, held above, in the air, shielding Party's head and something else…someone on the ground…someone _small_ that is not moving.

_Oh God, please, no…_

"Cherri, step on it."

Cherri understands and they draw by the site with a spectacular slide.

Fun Ghoul is out of the car before it pulls to a complete stop.

He runs over to Party and Missile.

_Oh please don't let her be dead! Let them be all right._

He knows her death will kill something inside all of them but it will completely eviscerate Party Poison. He knows that like he knows the feel of his raygun, the taste of Power Pup, the scorching feel of the weather.

_Something learned slowly but undeniable._

"Party? Party!"

The jacket comes off and Party is looking at him through the red curtain of his hair. Missile Kid is curled up beneath him, perpendicular to him, and he has his arms placed stoutly across the width of her, _only a kid_, his form hunched over hers.

_Providing cover, shielding her with his own body_, Fun Ghoul thinks and not for the first time he is amazed by the man before him.

"Party, what's wrong with her?" He asks as he drops next to them.

"Heat stroke." The Killjoy replies, an odd, catching rasp to his words.

Cherri Cola and Show Pony arrive quickly, carrying a large bottle of water each.

They were close enough to hear Party and so they pour both their bottles over Party Poison and Missile Kid.

"All right Party, we need to get out of here. We can take it from here. Just stand up and go to the car. We'll carry her."

Party Poison mumbles something softly.

"Really Party. We don't have much time."

Silence and then…

"I can't move, Ghoul."

Fun Ghoul glances over to Cherri and Show Pony, sure that their perplexed and worried expressions match his own.

"Party, what–"

"Had to run over one Drac and then…couldn't get off fast enough and my chest…That's what I get for copying you I guess."

Understanding dawns on the black haired Killjoy and he immediately stands up, going next to his best friend.

"Can you stand with my help?"

"Missile–"

"Show Pony and Cherri will take her. Here, swing your arm around my shoulders."

Fun Ghoul squats next to the red-haired Killjoy, helping the other man carefully swing an arm around his shoulders.

The shorter Killjoy does not miss the flinch of pain, nor the way that Party's breath hitches.

He simply strengthens himself, standing as slowly as he thinks Party will be able to handle.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long until they're both upright and then Show Pony and Cherri Cola move quickly and scoop up Missile Kid, running her to the car.

Their progress is slower but Party pushes himself. Fun Ghoul can see it, in the way Party sets his face resolutely, betraying no sign of hurt. He leans heavily on Ghoul, but he moves quickly.

As soon as they're all in the car, the air conditioning goes on full blast.

It's an easy way to blow right through gasoline but that's the last thing on their minds.

* * *

_"Dr. Death Defying, this is Fun Ghoul. Pick up, Dr. D."_

_"Ghoul. You found 'em yet?"_

_"Yeah. We've got both of them and we're heading home, burning the rubber we'll be there in about twenty minutes."_

_"They all right?"_

_Fun Ghoul bites his lip._

_"Missile is going to need a hell of an ice bath and Party…I think we'll need to wrap his chest."_

_"I'll have everything ready."_

_"Have Kobra and Jet contacted you?"_

_"I'll call them and tell them to come home. I also called NewsAGoGo in. She'll be able to help better with Missile Kid." _

_"Thanks Dr. D."_

_"Everything will be fine Ghoul."_

* * *

As soon as they arrive at the Diner, Jet Star and Kobra Kid open the doors of the Trans AM.

Jet Star and Show Pony take Grace inside, carrying her into the small bathroom and handing her off to NewsAGoGo. The female Killjoy shoos them out of the bathroom promptly, closing the door as they leave.

Kobra Kid and Fun Ghoul help Party Poison out of the car and into the Diner.

As soon as he's inside, Party moves away from them, heading straight for the bathroom, where he can hear the water already running.

"No, Party. Dr. Death needs to check on you."

"Missile–"

Kobra's voice leaves no room for argument but Party still fights.

"I'm fine, damn it! I need to see Missile Kid."

"No one will stop you, Party, but you gotta let me look you over first kid."

Party finally yields and he sits where his brother directs him.

Kobra is clearly nervous, in the way his hands shake slightly as he helps his brother remove his jacket and then his black shirt.

Party's eyes remain locked on the hall that leads to the bathroom but all their eyes lock on the light ruby that blossoms over a good portion of Party's left side.

_And then their looks travel inevitably to the left and down, to the scar tissue, pronounced but fading, the evidence of the wound that nearly robbed him from them. _

"I'm gonna need to feel it to see if they're broken or just bruised. You ready for that Party?"

Party Poison draws his gaze away from the hall to look at Dr. Death, nod, and then his glance once more returns to its previous location, as if he could see what was going on in the bathroom through sheer will alone.

"News knows to use cool water right? Not completely freezing?"

"She knows Party."

"And the ice? She knows where to place the ice?"

"Everything is under control Party. Now sit still man. You're moving too much."

Party Poison finally falls silent and Dr. Death Defying takes the opportunity to lean forward and prod the ugly bruise. He pushes as far as he knows he needs to go to get an accurate diagnosis.

He feels the Killjoy leader tense when he nudges a particular spot and he looks up.

Their eyes meet and Dr. Death suddenly understands what the other man wants from him.

A private battle is waged inside his head as he continues, moving his hand elsewhere.

In the end, he decides to grant Party's silent request.

"I think it's safe to say it's just bruising. Still, we'll wrap it up."

The room breathes a little easier.

"So no internal bleeding or anything like that right?"

Dr. Death allows himself a chuckle at Kobra's wide-eyed question.

"No, Kobra. Nothing like that. His side would be all purple and hard. He'll be fine in a couple of weeks. Just gonna have to watch that side for a while. Make sure he doesn't hit it anymore."

Kobra Kid, Cherri Cola, Jet Star and Show Pony all smile at the good news.

Fun Ghoul however…He manages to catch Dr. Death's eyes.

_We'll talk later, _they say.

* * *

No sooner is Party's chest swathed in bandages than he moves to the bathroom.

He knocks tentatively on the locked door.

"We'll be out in a sec Poison."

Party just waits patiently outside.

* * *

"We've brought her temperature down to normal. You'll need to take it every few hours to make sure, but she should be okay."

NewsAGoGo hands him the old-fashioned thermometer. She can sense his hesitation.

"She'll be right as rain in no time Poison. She's been hanging around you motorbabies for so long, you rubbed off on her. She kept asking about you, wouldn't shut up. That little crash queen's got spirit. Don't sell her short, yeah?"

Party can only smile at the young Japanese woman, "Thank you News. What can we get you? Carbons? Food? Gas? Anything?"

"This little visit's on me Poison. Dr. Death called in a favor. I'll be getting back to my Zone but you have him contact DJ Hot Chimp so I can know how she's doing. Wouldn't hurt you all any to drop by too. Tommy ChowMein's been asking after you zonerunners."

"We'll make sure to visit soon…Is Cherri going with you?"

NewsAGoGo looks away as a deep blush covers her high cheekbones.

"You don't need him around here do you?"

Party gives her a cheeky grin. "I'm sure we'll manage without him."

"Good. Then yeah, he's coming along. There's some things we need to talk about."

"With your lips?" Fun Ghoul asks from behind, making loud kissing noises.

The whole Diner bursts out in laughter.

"Don't think I won't put you in your place Fun Ghoul. I won't care that you're a Fabulous Killjoy."

Fun Ghoul just winks at her, "Here all night baby!"

"_Baka na hito!" _NewsAGoGo tells him in fluid Japanese, though there is an amused smile on her face.

* * *

Party finds their role reversal ironic.

Because he is the one now sitting beside Missile Kid, watching her sleep.

Her eyelids flicker, and she whimpers so softly he thinks he may have misheard it.

But there it is again, a small whine of distress and he immediately moves closer to her, paying less care to his ribs than he should have.

On impulse, _heart driven impulse_, he grabs her hand, marveling quietly at the effortless way it fits into his own.

Something surges in his chest, _love and its fierce need to protect and save,_ and he knows now that he will never be able to bring himself to leave her behind.

* * *

Grace dreams.

She dreams of her mother's tender embrace. She dreams of her laughter _a sound like bells, silk water over stones in a hidden stream_.

She dreams of her father. His strong arms, his postcards, the way he'd sit with her and read her each of his new travel journals and logs, _voice so confident, teeming with the world he'd try to teach her a little of each language he knew (which was a lot)._

She dreams of her sister. What she would have looked like, had she lived. _And there was the story of unhappiness, the day a mother finds she is carrying twins and then…then at the moment when they should have both sung their cries to the world, the secret turns of fate choose one child over the smaller…_

She dreams of the white halls of Battery City. The classes she attended every day _7 A.M to 4 P.M._ The school, _Do you not see how the keys on the piano light up? A system ensures that those lights provide you with the options that will result in perfect, harmonious sound. Citizen student GJ324, you must play in synchronization with your classmates. This is your final warning. Another infraction and we will have no choice but to administer appropriate punishment._

She dreams of the day her mother died, the way she shoved the leather satchel into her hands before pushing her out a door in the back.

_I love you, I love you my child. I love you with all my breath and were it I could live to see you grow into the amazing woman I know you will become… Go, run into the desert. There will be people that will help you, I know it. There is no longer a place for you here. Go and keep running. My child, my Grace, always remember that I loved you with all that I was._

* * *

"You lied to Kobra! To the rest of them!"

"I did only what Party asked of me... What do you want me to say, Ghoul? You've come to me quietly enough times, asking me to take a look at something or other. What makes this any different?"

"This is Party we're talking about…you lied to his _brother_!"

"What makes you so sure I lied?"

"I was there! I saw the crashed bike…He couldn't even get up on his own! I know what broken ribs sound like Dr. Death. I broke mine six months ago, pulling the same stunt as Party. Don't tell me you've forgotten?"

The hissed whispers stop at that question and the pirate radio DJ looks away.

"Look, Fun Ghoul. I like you kid. But you've got to understand that I do things for a reason. You know perfectly well how Party is. And you've come to me behind his back, behind all their backs, with injuries before. I know it ain't pride that makes you do it. You just can't bring yourself to worry them, can you? He's the same. You all are. I will never betray your trust by calling you out on it, not unless I think something is seriously wrong. Party will heal. You've healed just fine."

The black-haired Killjoy is floored by Dr. Death Defying's words.

He promises himself that he will look harder at each of his teammates after every battle and try to divine the injuries that they suffer and hide and deal with on their own.

_The kindness of lies, _He thinks, and smiles sadly.

* * *

Party dreams of his wife.

_She trails kisses up his jaw before settling her head back down on his chest with a content sigh._

_Some strands of her dark hair tickle against his throat. _

_For a moment, they just lie there, in that space somewhere between the remnants of sleep and dawning of wakefulness. _

_The marker is smooth in his hand._

_He's not planned this at all, the words have been in his head for months, but this moment right here, this is completely spontaneous._

_"Romantic" he hopes she will say._

_Either way, he is sure of what he wants, what his heart and his mind and his soul want so he takes her hand and opens it, makes sure she will not be able to see what he writes._

_They write on each other all the time, messages to each other, before concerts, that everyone will be able to see. Most times the words are written on their necks. Sometimes on their arms._

_But not today. Today is special._

_Today he takes her hand, and the pad of his thumb ghosts across her palm._

_She shivers a little, maybe she knows what he will ask, but she remains still._

_He writes the words and once he's done he closes her hand, fists it gently and kisses it, before letting go._

_For a few seconds she just looks at him._

_And then she opens her hand, reads, and looks at him again._

_Wide open smile and wide open love._

_"Yes," She answers, "Yes." _

* * *

The dream develops into a nightmare.

Grace sees her mother and they're standing together on a high, high building.

They're in the middle of Battery City, and her mother is on the ledge.

Grace screams at her. Begs her not to leave her, begs and begs and pleads.

_Please, mom! Please don't leave me._

Her mother does not listen to her.

The decision was hers to choose, and perhaps in that moment when she looked down and saw the world and all it had become, spread out below her, perhaps she chose to plunge toward it headlong.

Perhaps she saw before her a lifetime of walking on the ruined earth and chose instead a single moment in the air.

And Grace cannot forgive her absence.

* * *

"Party?"

The red-haired Killjoy jolts awake.

"Missile Kid? Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

He stands to leave, perhaps get Dr. Death Defying or the thermometer but her hand clutches at his tight.

"Don't leave me."

The heartbreak in her voice rings excruciatingly loud against his ears. It's not hollow, _no_, it is full of loneliness and uncertainty and hurt.

_The pain of lost unconditional love_.

"I won't leave you Missile Kid."

"…"

"Missile?"

"Are you mad at me?"

"…No…I'm not mad at you. I was worried…"

"…Why?"

"What do you mean why? You're…you just can't…I can't just lose you, you know?"

"…"

"Grace?"

"I miss her."

Party Poison sighs. He wants to go get Jet Star, or Show Pony.

He doesn't want to talk down this road.

But he stays. He will not abandon her again.

"Your mom?"

"Yeah."

"Is she…did she…"

"Die? Yeah. She died."

"I'm so sorry Grace."

"I saw her when…I...She saved me. She _saved _me and I saw them, holding her, and I _knew_ what they were going to do and I…_I couldn't do anything..._Party?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do we learn to love what we can lose?"

For a moment, he is left breathless.

The same question has turned inside his heart for years.

"…Because it's worth it. To live is to be marked…to change, to acquire the words to a story…even if those words are _pain_, or _fear_ or _loss_…Love and happiness and kindness, those are the things that color life and they're worth everything…"

For a moment Grace is quiet and then…

"Do you miss them?"

His breath catches in his throat as his heart hammers in his chest.

"I miss them with all that I am."

Her hand squeezes his tighter and then she slips something past his fingers, around his wrist.

In the threadbare moonlight that filters into the room, he glances down at the object.

The teal beads wrap around his wrist once, then twice. He can feel something hanging off the necklace-turned-bracelet…

"Grace, I'm not religi–"

"All people have faith. Doesn't need to be religious."

_Faith in self, faith in others, faith in love, in redemption, in joy and justice._

Her hand is squeezing again. "My mother gave it to me. Said it would keep me safe."

"Then why–"

"To keep _you_ safe. You keep me safe, but then who's watching over you? Better not to take any chances."

He smiles at her innocence.

"Do you think they forgive us? The dead I mean. The ones we failed to save."

"I don't know."

"Do you think we can forgive ourselves?"

She shouldn't be asking these questions. Shouldn't know so much so young but she does and he realizes that he needs to guide her more than ever.

"I think we're a balance of our damages and our transgressions. We are our injuries as much as we are our successes. Mistakes are part of the story and we need to learn to forgive."

"Have you forgiven yourself?"

He mulls on that thought. Wonders, looks within and finds the same pulsing pain and guilt.

"No."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Grace, you don't know–"

"You feel the guilt. Always the guilt, it is as familiar as the taste of water on your tongue and you know you should have done something, _anything_, but you couldn't and you feel weak."

_"Grace…"_

"It eats at you. You feel like the past will devour you whole."

"Grace, please…"

Her hands travel upward, to his chest and then she's hugging him, tightly.

"They're with you though. Dreams and nightmares, but they're with you. Their memory will carry on. "

He hugs her back with all his strength.

She cries against his shoulder and he holds her, even as tears sting his own eyes.

* * *

"Will you take me to the mailbox?"

He hesitates.

And then…

"Yeah. I'll go with you."

* * *

_"What's this one?"_

_Party holds up the crinkled postcard from the pile on the bed._

_Missile had asked him to bring her satchel to her when she'd been bored (They had both been sentenced to one full day of bed rest.)_

_He'd been surprised at the amount of things she kept in there._

_The thing that took up the most space was a thick notebook. The leather of it was smooth from age and constant use, and though he'd itched to open it up and read whatever was inside, he decided that its privacy must be important to Grace, or she would have volunteered to share it with him and the others like the rest of the things inside the bag._

_Missile Kid looks at the postcard with longing._

_"My dad sent me this one when he visited Japan. He was writing up a travelogue about Ginza and Shibuya I think…Anyway, he sent me this after he went to see a Kabuki performance. He promised me we'd go someday…"_

_Party glances down again at the postcard in his hands, now aware of its story._

_"Looks kind of funny though," He said at last, trying to elicit a smile or laugh from her._

_She grinned at him. "Yeah. That's what I told my dad too. He just laughed and told me that it all had a meaning, however funny it all looks."_

_"Well then, Ms. Information, what did he say it meant?"_

_This time she actually laughed, "I can't really remember what the brightly colored costumes mean…but I do remember that he told me the paint on their faces signify different things."_

_Party points to the figure on the postcard, whose arms and face are decorated with scarlet lines, "So who is this guy? Good or bad?"_

_"Good. They used red, green and blue to color the protagonists. The red on him means he was one of the heroes."_

_Party smirks, "Well at least we've got our color-coding right!"_

* * *

Despite his efforts, the trip to the Mailbox does not stay between him and Missile Kid.

The others understand the significance of the journey however, and they all volunteer to stay in the car.

_We can't let you two head off on your own, not after what's happened. We'll give you space, but you've got to understand, we can't take any chances._

He thinks long and hard about what he wants to bring with him, what he wants to leave there.

Missile Kid stays busy with the letter she writes.

The drive down Route Guano is mostly silent.

For once, Party isn't driving.

He's seated in the back, Missile Kid next to him, being careful not to get too close lest she accidentally hurt his side.

Jet Star sits behind Kobra Kid, who sends short, secret glances back to him and then Fun Ghoul, the driver today.

Party Poison is aware of the nervous tension but for once, it doesn't bother him immediately.

There's a certain warmth that spreads from the letter he's stashed inside his jacket pocket to his chest. The promise of something lifting, the promise of a weight losing its hold.

He looks at Missile Kid.

Her eyes carry the same possibility.

* * *

She goes first.

The sun has yet to rise fully and the area is dark but none of them mind.

She stands there for a few minutes, curious eyes glancing at the Mailbox before her, trying to read all the messages that have been written or carved or painted.

She gives up after a while, certain there are too many.

The words that draw her attention however, are right in the middle.

_LOVE_

_I Forgive U_

Her mother didn't leave her.

She died for love _its fierce need to protect and save_, so that she _her daughter_ could be free.

She will not waste that gift.

* * *

_The teal beads that encircle your wrist, the hands of the girl Grace, of your brothers Mikey, Frank, Ray will soothe your fingers, which are simply looking for something to touch. _

_Dad, you can still hold on but forgive, forgive and give for as long as we both shall live I forgive you, Dad._

_The teeth at your bones are your own, the hunger is yours, forgiveness is yours…_

_Listen. Slide the weight from your shoulders and keep running. You are afraid that you might forget, but you never will._

_You will forgive and remember and I will watch over you with mom and over all those you love and protect._

_Redemption is at your fingertips, it always was._

_Savor it now, the day, the breeze. Run the memory of it over your tongue. Speak it aloud; there's no one listening. Close your eyes and remember the moment, the warm pink life of it…Let it wash over you._

_To live is to change, to acquire the words to a story, and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. In perfect stillness, frankly, you will only find sorrow._

* * *

Party Poison does not know why he suddenly feels the urge to move forward, to take the steps that will bring him to the Mailbox.

Missile Kid moves away when she sees him approach.

She offers a smile of encouragement as she turns away. She's done what she needed to do.

He stands there, motionless, until his near-numb fingers reach to the Mailbox.

He opens it, and with one final heaving breath, he drops his letter inside.

It feels strange, as his fingers brush the warm metal and let go of the paper.

"We'll carry on," He whispers softly into air, the words bittersweet, a balm _liberation, salvation_ that washes over the cracked and parched surface of his heart.

* * *

Missile Kid feels a pair of hands shaking her awake.

One eye cracked open reveals Party Poison.

"Party?"

"You awake Missile?"

"I am now I guess."

He smiles at her, "I think I need your help with something."

His request startles her and she jumps awake. "What?"

His grin is hesitant, _a little afraid?_

"Meet me in the back. You'll see."

With that he's out of her room, giving her time to change.

* * *

"You sure about this?"

"Yeah…My hair's getting long and pushing it back is distracting. It's getting in the way."

She is uncertain. She knows what this means for him. Being up when she's supposed to be sleeping _and not eavesdropping_, has led her to know several things that they don't share with her.

And she's heard his nightmares often enough to confirm.

Still, here he is, sitting in the stool behind the Diner, can of red hair dye ready.

She takes the makeshift hose they've hooked up to the faucet outside and wets his hair to start.

He tenses when she threads her hands through his long hair, preparing to cut.

"Go ahead Missile."

She moves the scissors deftly, gently always gently. The red, red hair falls slowly to the ground as she works, fluttering down. Once she's done cutting she re-dyes his hair, confidence growing when she notices that Party's tension has eased.

They're both aware of noises inside the Diner as the other Killjoys begin to stir and wake up by the time she's through.

Her fingers _still coated in fire truck red _tingle with some need, some unknown impulse to add a finalizing touch.

Her chestnut eyes lock with Party Poison's haze.

_"They used red, green and blue to color the protagonists. The red on him means he was one of the heroes."_

The leader of the Fabulous Killjoys nods at her. His eyes slip closed, and he tilts his head back, exposing his neck _his vulnerability_ unreservedly to her.

The action is laden with such implicit trust her breath catches.

And then she leans forward, using two fingers _index and middle_, to trace a line of red down each underside of his jaw, leaving the middle untouched.

The hair dye runs down his neck a little but still, she likes the way it looks.

"Done."

"You didn't make me bald did you?"

"Not even."

"Good…Grace?"

"Yeah Party?"

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

She reaches for his hand, to help him up.

He takes it and smiles, _open and painless_.

"Think the guys will like it?"

"They better. It looks bad ass."

"Last can of soda says Fun Ghoul comments with the exact same words."

"You're on Party."

* * *

"She's a good kid ain't she?"

Dr. Death comments, looking outside, watching Fun Ghoul, Jet Star and Kobra Kid chase and play around with Missile Kid, water balloons in all of their hands.

"Yeah."

"So I guess you guys are keeping her here right?"

Party Poison nods resolutely, voice unwavering.

"She's staying. I'll never let them hurt her, that I can promise you. The future must be bulletproof."

"The future is bulletproof…hmnn, that's good Party, real good. Mind if I use it on the air?"

Party shakes his head, looking outside and smiling at the scene.

"Think she'll see me sneak around the back?" Party smirks, _the incredible lightness of being alive illuminating his eyes_.

"She'll get you back you know. Put something in your Power Pup, get you in your room…she's a wily one. "

"I'll take my chances."

"Go ahead then! What're you waiting for?"

Party runs outside, forgetting the entire plan about sneaking anywhere and heading straight for Missile Kid, picking her up and holding her as the other Killjoys pelt both of them with water balloons.

"They're total goof balls," Show Pony observes, taking a seat next to Dr. Death Defying.

"Yeah, well, they deserve to have some fun…Say, do we still have that hose out back, Show Pony?"

"Dr. Death I thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

**We are reaching the end my fellow Killjoys! Sadly, the part were Party Poison cannot be saved is next! I hope I can do it justice.**


	7. Party Poison I

**How are you my fellow Killjoys?**

**Here is the promised update, Part I, though I hang my head in shame at the lateness.**

**Well, school is over but I found a job...in fact, I've been stealing company minutes to finish this part so I've been typing in snippets.**

**I hope the length of this chapter makes up for its tardiness ;D**

**I HAVE TWO IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS!**

**THE FIRST IS MORE IMPORTANT: As you guys know, I challenged you, my readers, to take one of the chapters of this story and expand it into a full blown story. Motorbaby accepted the challenge and took up the mantle for Kobra Kid's chapter.**

**I AM** **PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE THAT SHE'S STARTED POSTING IT! **

**HERE IS THE INFO:**

**Story: "Living Nightmare"**

**Author: Motorbaby**

**I am going to be pushy now and ask that you guys head over to her profile and read it. It really is awesome, I kid you not. I am incredibly happy and amazed at how she was able to expand on the idea and write it so well. I highly, highly, _highly _recommend it.**

**On a similar note, where are you The Swim Chick? Or anyone reading who is a staff member for the Killjoy stories community here on . PLEASE PLEASE add "Living Nightmare" to the community. It really is worth the time, I promise ;D**

**SECONDLY: ****Am I Still Accepting Killjoys?**

**Yes. However, due to the overwhelming initial response, I've filled all leadership positions for the zones and secondary roles. You are welcome to still submit your Killjoy though, and I will send you a list of the leaders for you to choose under whom you'd like to serve under, though your Killjoy will have a limited role.**

* * *

PARTY POISON

* * *

"I have to go after her Poison."

Party Poison gives a heavy sigh and looks away.

He can see the setting sun through the dusty window of the Diner.

"Did you talk with DJ Hot Chimp?"

Cherri Cola huffs in frustration. He doesn't need this. And both men know it.

"He's the first one I talked to, Poison. He's my Zone leader after all. Had to inform him."

"Look Cherri, NewsAGoGo may–"

"Don't you dare! Don't you even fucking dare Poison..."

The other man stands then, hands clenched at his sides and tears in his eyes.

"We don't know anything about what happened to her and the others…don't you dare try to get me to stay by telling me she's _gone._"

Party Poison grips the table edges.

"This isn't easy for me either Cherri."

_He remembers NewsAGoGo's smiling face, her Japanese, her taking care of Grace._

"You didn't love her. Not like I did."

_He remembers the way she and Cherri stood back to back, the way they fought together, the way she whispered sweet things into his ear when they thought no one was looking, the way his tongue stumbled over whatever new Japanese phrase she'd been teaching him and how she laughed as a result._

The red-haired Killjoy feels the anger seep out of his body. Cherri Cola is right.

If it had been Kobra or Ghoul or Jet or Missile, he'd have gone to their last known location in a matter of seconds. Wouldn't have even consulted it with anyone.

"Are you going to tell the others?"

Cherri Cola is more relaxed now, though he is worrying his lip between his teeth.

"No."

"Would you like me to tell them?"

For a moment Cherri Cola wants to agree. But then, he remembers where he is going and why and what will be the most likely outcome and he reneges.

"No."

Party Poison only nods and again, Cherri feels the need to take it back. It will be an unfair burden on Party, _his leader, his friend,_ but he can think of no other way.

The need to find her is too strong and it blinds him.

"I'll be fine Party."

Party Poison looks at him and Cherri feels the full force of his hazel eyes.

"I've been there Cherri."

"Then you will understand why _I have to know_."

"We do anything for love don't we?"

Cherri Cola smiles at him sadly, turning to leave.

"Would our hearts let us have it any other way?"

* * *

"Party?"

The leader of the Fabulous Killjoys launches awake, instantly on alert.

"Missile? What's wrong?"

The young girl steps forward and he notices in the dim light of the lamp he's turned on that she's carrying her satchel.

She closes his door behind her and pads quickly to his bed.

"There's something you should know."

The trepidation in her voice stirs the beginnings of panic inside his stomach.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me Grace."

Missile Kid is silent for a few seconds before she reaches inside her bag and pulls out the leather notebook Party had once seen and wanted to open.

Her small hands shake it and papers float down.

For a moment they look like drawings she might have done until he peers closer and sees the intricate diagrams.

There are only three pages but their importance is unquestionable.

"Where did you get these?"

Missile Kid's hands are trembling and she grips the bag closer to her body.

"When my mom…when she shoved me out the door, she gave me this satchel and…and my boom box and she told me to run to the desert…"

Her voice steadies now. Maybe defying him to stop her.

He remains quiet, looking briefly to his desk, where the radio she's talking about sits, before returning his gaze to her.

"And these."

She reaches inside again, pulling out one of the hated BL/Ind. pill bottles. This one is a little larger than is customary and when he takes it and opens it, the small pills inside are blue.

He quickly sets the bottle down. He hates the pills with a passion.

"She worked for them Party…my father was a journalist and had nothing to do with BL/Ind…but she…she _worked for them_…"

His throat closes up.

"She was a scientist…don't you see Party? She helped them make those pills!"

He pulls her against his chest then, letting her cry on his shoulder, resting his hand on top of her head in what he knows is a comforting gesture to her.

She mumbles something against his shirt and it takes some time before he is able to understand her plea.

_"Please don't send me away Party! Please don't make me leave!"_

Pain flares in his chest.

"You're not going anywhere Grace. I'll never let them hurt you. I promise."

She believes him, _she always does, without question_, and the weight of his promise _everything he's ever promised to her and the others_, suddenly feels stifling and heavy upon his shoulders.

He'll keep them all with his life if he has to.

* * *

"Your plan sounds excellent…however, this board has several concerns."

"I'm listening Director."

"How is it exactly that you plan to lure them away from their hiding place?"

Korse's smile is wide.

"I've taken two of their allies," Korse takes the folders in front of him and slides them across the smooth conference table to the director before doing the same for the other board members, "A female, alias 'NewsAGoGo' was taken two months ago. She has undergone successful rehabilitation as you well know."

The Director's nod is quick and content, "Yes. Mrs. Isoda is a most excellent secretary and representative for this company. But what about the male, this," The man glances at the second file, "'Cherri Cola'?"

Korse's grin only grows as his fingers tap on the white marble veneer of the table. "He too has been successfully rehabilitated and is working under me now, in the Draculoid unit stationed at Battery City."

"Reports from there have been positive Korse. I commend you for your work."

Korse's thanks for the compliment are short as he continues, jumping at the opportunity, "The male has divulged the location of one of the Zone leaders of the rebellion. He would not give up the Fabulous Killjoys, but I believe that the information he has shared is enough to set a trap for them. Draw them out of their hiding place, so to speak."

"And you believe this will work?"

"I believe that the plan will go off smoothly. They'll be the company's property by the end of the week."

The Director's eyes shine with clear greed and anticipation as murmurs of approval come from the other board members.

"There is one last concern we have Korse…The girl. You said that you would take her to Battery City. Can you guarantee us, without fail, that the Fabulous Killjoys will follow?"

Korse stops tapping his fingers but the smile never leaves his face. "The girl may know something. Her mother may have divulged sensitive information to her, even if the child is not aware of its importance. However, she will be more useful in telling us about how the rebel operation works. She's been with them for a few years, she must know something. As for the Fabulous Killjoys," Korse slides the last file under his hands across to the Director, "We do not yet know their true identities but we've observed them long enough to know how they operate. They've grown accustomed to the child, even grown to _love_ her,"

Gruff chuckles spread around the table at the words,

"They will not be willing to let her go so easily. And that is a weakness we must exploit to the fullest extent."

The Director closes the file and looks directly at Korse, gaze hungry in a way that Korse knows well.

_He feels that hunger all the time._

"Then you have this board's full support, Chief Exterminator. Carry on."

Korse leaves the conference room, hands shaking with eagerness.

* * *

"We'll just have to keep a closer eye on her."

"Any closer and we might as well just chain her to one of us," Fun Ghoul comments, making Kobra Kid and Jet Star smile, "Besides, all she needs is Paranoid Party around. You do enough close watching for all of us,"

Party Poison's lips quirk up in a small grin as he shakes his head ruefully, "Come on Ghoul. Let's try to be serious."

Fun Ghoul absorbs the comment instantly, "I know Party. But we _are_ keeping a close eye on her. You know she never goes anywhere without us. They haven't come after her in all these years."

"I think he's right Party," Jet Star voices, "We're taking all the necessary precautions."

Party finally relents, "All right, all right. We'll keep with what we're doing so far. Seems to be working anyway."

"Good. Now that that's settled, anyone up for a spin around the desert?"

"As long as Ghoul doesn't drive!"

"Hey!"

"What? You drive like a devil. We don't need to die by car crash," Kobra laughs, hitting the shorter man amiably on the arm.

Fun Ghoul's pout makes Party smile.

"Besides, I'm not as bad as Cherri. Now that dude could burn the rubber like no other…Hey, Party, any news from Cherri?"

All eyes are on him now and Party forces himself to look at them.

He has not been able to reach the other Killjoy for over a month.

That knowledge weighs heavily on him every night, keeping him awake.

"Nah. He's probably being kept busy by DJ Hot Chimp. That man likes to send out runners more than Dr. Death."

They seem to accept his explanation and Party sighs quietly in relief, _though something turns inside his stomach at the way they easily accept his lie._

They continue to joke around until Show Pony roller-skates into the room, looking a little flustered.

"Dr. Death needs you in the comm. room. He says it's important."

Something sparks inside Party's mouth as he and the others follow Show Pony. Something that tastes like foreboding.

"How long ago did he send this?" Party Poison asks, holding the short message in his hands. The paper is dusty, the envelope torn where Dr. Death Defying opened it with a knife.

The signature has faded a little but the seal at the bottom is unmistakable.

"A couple of days maybe. You know how long it takes to get runners here from Zone 1."

"Well, it doesn't sound that urgent," Ghoul comments, reading the message that's now been passed to Jet Star.

"Knowing Triggerpull, he's trying not to sound too panicked. Dr. D, can you get him on the communicator or the radio?"

"Been trying both since Show Pony brought me that message but he ain't answering either, Jet."

No sooner do the words come out of his mouth than the radio crackles to life, the first little red light _Zone 1_ flashing.

Dr. Death passes the mic to Party Poison.

The lines to the Zone leaders are secure so the red-haired Killjoy speaks with confidence, "Party Poison here. That you Tiger?"

There is a brief moment of silence and then…

_"Tiger Triggerpull reporting for duty, bright and early on this hot, hot day. One-oh-nine in the sky my ass, it must be at least a hundred and thirty."_

Dr. Death chuckles from where he sits, saying loudly, "If you got any complaints with the weather service I suggest you take it up with Hot Chimp. He's the one who sends on the weather reading from his ol' thermometer here every morning."

_"That monkey in Zone 3 doesn't know how to read numbers then. Or his equipment's faulty. Can't confirm at this point I'm afraid. Sorry 'bout not answerin' earlier. Some of these damn lines are going haywire on me."_

Party takes the chance to speak up, "You sounded a little worried in your message. Everything all right over there?"

_"Yeah, things are all right. These line problems are what's worrying me. I lost contact a couple of days ago with a group of my Killjoys."_

Everyone suddenly tenses. "You didn't mention that in your letter."

_"Didn't want to worry ya'll over there. You have your hands full with Zone 6 and the rest of the Zones. They're back now though but the electronics guy I had has busted up his leg pretty good. I'm useless when it comes to figuring out what's wrong with my lines. None of others can figure out what's wrong either. I was wondering if you'd be able to lend me your Fun Ghoul. I'll treat him nice, I promise."_

Laughs burst out across the room as Fun Ghoul takes the communicator from Party's hands,

"I'm in high demand. What've you got to offer me?"

_"Ghoul! I thought we had something special, sugar! Now you're charging me?"_

"You bet your ass I am. These skills don't come cheap. I think I'll take your Tiger mascot mask. It'll match Party's MouseKat."

_"Are you gonna wear it? Sure you won't get lost in it? It's meant for a fully grown man after all!"_

The laughter in the room grows and even Show Pony is snickering loudly.

Fun Ghoul is about to utter some choice words when Party re-takes the communicator, trying hard to stifle his amusement as he speaks to the Zone leader on the line,

"All right. We'll be there in a few days. Just hang tight and try to contact Dr. Death as often as you can."

_"Good to hear Poison. Over and out?"_

"Over and out."

* * *

_"Look alive, sunshine! One-oh-nine in the sky but the pigs won't quit! You're here with me, Dr. Death Defying. I'll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter, pumping out the slaughtermatic sounds to keep you alive! A system failure for the masses, anti-matter for the master plan! Louder than God's revolver and twice as shiny, this one's for all you rock 'n' rollers, all you crash queens and motor babies, listen up! The future is bulletproof. The aftermath is secondary. It's time to do it now and do it loud! Killjoys, make some noise!" _

Dr. Death Defying puts the communicator down and transitions smoothly to a loud and fast-paced song.

"You having fun there Dr. D?" Fun Ghoul asks with a smirk, adjusting his aviator sunglasses.

"Well sure. I do my thing and you do yours Ghoul. Now where is Show Pony? I told that boy to be here early and– Show Pony!"

The tall man came in roller-skating, stopping right before Dr. Death's wheelchair.

"Zones are clear this morning. No one reporting any Drac sightings and there's no signs of any approaching storms."

"That's great news," Jet Start comments, seeing that Party is too busy adjusting his pants to respond.

"Bro. Get some bigger pants."

"Sorry Kobra," Party smirks at his brother, "I don't take style advice from gigolos."

Fun Ghoul laughs heartily as Kobra scowls.

"What's a gigolo?"

"Nothing you need to know right now, Missile." Jet Star says quickly, "Why don't you come with me and help me get breakfast started?"

"Chef Jet Star! I'll take some eggs, sunny side up and your finest coffee…and some pancakes."

Fun Ghoul has to dodge the cleaning rag that Jet Star throws at his head.

"The menu for today is, as always, Power Pup. You're welcome to try another diner if you like," The taller man's afro shakes a little as he walks away laughing, pushing a giggling Grace out of the room.

Fun Ghoul frowns as he places his green raygun in its holster.

"I can never get anything around here."

* * *

They're sure that not even the dogs the Power Pup is meant for would eat the crap but still, they're all hungry and they eat ravenously.

Grace reaches for a can of Power Pup but Party stops her, giving her another can.

"Party, this is for babies!"

"No it's not. It might have the picture of a baby on the label but it's meant for everyone."

"I'll take it," Fun Ghoul offers, only to have Party glare at him.

"You need your milk Missile Kid. You're still a growing Killjoy," Jet Star tries.

"'Sides, we went through all that trouble just to find that stash of cans. You wouldn't waste our work like that would you?"

Kobra Kid's argument quiets the young girl and Grace squeezes onto the booth next to Fun Ghoul, taking the can opener in the middle of the table to unfasten the lid off the can of evaporated milk.

Party Poison sends a look of thanks his brother's way and the blond Killjoy acknowledges it with a smile.

* * *

"I call shotgun!" Grace practically squeals as she runs to the Trans AM.

Party and Ghoul take one look at each as they step outside and suddenly it's a race.

Kobra Kid and Jet Star watch with amusement and walk calmly to the back of the car as Party and Ghoul, having reached the driver's door within seconds of each other, try to latch on to the door handle while fighting the other off.

"Executive decision says that I am driving today," Party growls, giving Ghoul a good shove.

"Legislative and judicial decision says that you always drive and that it's my turn." Ghoul returns calmly, elbowing Party in the side without thinking.

Party hisses _barely perceptible _but Ghoul catches it, and immediately backs off. They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, sharing a meaningful look.

Party knows that Ghoul knows what happened on the day they almost lost Grace.

It's been a little over a week since Party got rid of the bandages but Ghoul knows from personal experience that the ribs will be tender for a good while.

"I will concede to your executive decision for now and veto later," Ghoul offers, smiling and giving them a chance to return to the day's early jovial mood.

Party takes it immediately and winks at him.

"I'll see if I feel like accepting your veto later."

With that, Party slides into the driver's seat and Ghoul moves to the back to find Jet Star sitting inside and Kobra Kid standing by the door, a grin on his usually stoic face.

Ghoul knows that look.

"Oh no, no, no! You are mistaken, my friend, if you think I'm going in the middle."

"You're smaller."

"You're skinnier. Like a twig."

"Doesn't matter. Either get in now or you'll have to climb over my lap to get to the middle."

Ghoul is about to appeal to Party to control his brother but the red-haired man is chuckling softly, muttering something about them to Missile Kid.

"Fine. But if it gets too hot we're opening the sun roof and I'm standing on your lap."

"Whatever you say, little man!"

"Why you little motherfu–"

"Language!" Grace yells back, and Fun Ghoul settles for giving Kobra Kid his nastiest of looks as he gets into the Trans AM.

"I'll get you later Kobra. Better watch your back."

Kobra Kid decides that he doesn't like the glint of mischief in Fun Ghoul's eyes.

* * *

Grace yells in delight as she hangs out of the window of the Trans AM.

Her seatbelt is firmly in place but Party can't help but shoot her looks every so often, making sure that she won't fall out and meet the concrete of Route Guano anytime soon.

Ghoul sulks in the back and Jet Star is looking out the window, bobbing his head (and afro) to MGMK but Kobra Kid is fast asleep, despite the loud music blasting in the car.

They have been driving for an hour and Kobra had had the watch last night.

Party Poison returns his eyes to the road and once more fights the feeling of apprehension out his chest.

* * *

"I did what you asked! Now tell me where my men are!"

Korse glares at the Killjoy before him, not without some enjoyment at the man's helplessness.

"You zone rats have no manners do you? You're supposed to ask me nicely."

The Killjoy launches out of his seat and lunges for Korse but his Draculoids hold the man back, delivering solid punches to his middle to get him under control.

"You are too proud 'Tiger Triggerpull'" Korse spits the name out with disgust. He'd never understand the names the rebels used to identify one another.

"And you are one annoying little fucker," Triggerpull returns, spitting blood and saliva at the Exterminator.

If there is one thing Korse hates more than a zone rat stepping out of line or speaking out of turn, it is getting spit upon by the worthless animals.

He doesn't hold back any of his medically enhanced strength as he backhands the rebel.

Triggerpull's head slams to the side and his vision swims as Korse continues to talk.

"This hideout was smart, I'll give you that. Wouldn't have guessed that anything this big was left standing but I guess you've been running around Zone 1 long enough to have found this motel haven't you?"

The Killjoy doesn't answer.

"Come now, I just paid you a compliment. It would only be polite to acknowledge it."

"You can take you fucking compliment and shove it up your ass."

Another backhand and Tiger Triggerpull remains standing only through the support of the Draculoids holding him.

He's weak, he knows it. He hasn't been able to eat and keep anything down since he called Dr. Death Defying and the Fabulous Killjoys, even when Korse threatened him.

He knows that he's reached the end of his usefulness.

And that he's betrayed the very people he was supposed to protect and keep safe _and that shame burns in his chest worse than anything Korse could ever do to him_.

They'd all taken that vow, him and the other Zone leaders, when Party Poison had been at the edge of death for the first time.

They'd sworn allegiance to him, to the Fabulous Killjoys and most importantly, to the cause that the four men believed in so resolutely.

But there was still hope.

"What will I do with you now, Killjoy?"

"Look at all the fucks I give."

"Oh but you do care," Korse drawls out, calling over a Draculoid.

The drone responds quickly and hands something to his commander.

Korse takes the wrapped object and slowly peels back the white, BL/Ind. covering.

The large hunting knife glints ominously.

"Do you know what this does?"

Tiger Triggerpull holds the evil man's gaze.

"Why don't you stab yourself with it and demonstrate?"

Korse's laugh rings with sick glee. "Oh but that is what you are for, my dear little zone rat. I'll see how much you scream when the chemicals on this blade burn your flesh…unless you tell me where they went."

"What are you talking about?"

"The little group that you sent out when you saw that we were nearby."

"You're fucking crazy. You have all my Killjoys."

Without warning, Korse's hand shot out and sliced deep into the Killjoy's left arm.

Tiger Triggerpull couldn't contain the scream that clawed at his throat.

"Just tell me, Killjoy. Just tell me and it will all end."

"Fuck…you!"

He spits at Korse again.

* * *

"We'll stop here for a few minutes," Party says as he pulls over the car. They've just made it to the edge of Zone 6 but they need to eat and try to contact Dr. Death Defying.

Jet Star brings out the small suitcase that carries the portable communicator while Fun Ghoul and Kobra Kid secure the area.

Party leaves his yellow mask in the car in favor for his red and black checkered scarf.

He wakes Missile Kid gently and tells her that it's a pit stop and she should get out and stretch her legs.

The energetic little girl gets out in an instant, running to help Jet Star, who is now retrieving the cans of Power Pup.

Once they feel nothing will jump out of the bushes and get them, they all sit down to eat.

Party takes a few bites out of his Power Pup before he pulls out the map of the Zones and tries to communicate with Dr. Death.

Within minutes, his forehead creases in thinly veiled frustration.

"Not getting through?" Ghoul asks, taking the last bits of dog food from his Power Pup can and chucking them somewhere.

"No."

"Let me try" Party Poison is in the process of handing over the communicator radio when he spots something coming closer.

He's alert in an instant, on his feet in seconds as he pulls up his scarf, pulling down his goggles when he lights the fire signal for light.

The others tense and stand immediately, staying behind him to cover his back.

Misslie Kid, frightened, latches on to the closest person and Kobra Kid pats her arm reassuringly.

The something comes closer and as soon as Party Poison verifies that it is indeed a Draculoid he shoots it without further thought.

The raygun fire feels much too loud in the quiet desert but it ends there.

Making sure that no other Draculoid is around, Jet Star immediately grabs the communicator box and stashes it in the trunk as Fun Ghoul kicks dirt into the fire to extinguish it.

Missile Kid is already in the car.

Party startles a little when he feels his brother place his hand on his shoulder.

"It was just a stray Drac Party. We should get going."

Party nods at him and gets in the Trans AM.

The feeling of _wrongness _will not leave him.

* * *

They stop for gas along the way.

Yet again, they make sure Missile Kid waits in the car.

The attendant at the Dead Pegasus Gas Station eyes them wearily.

"I don't want any trouble."

"Neither do we," Party speaks up, placing a handful of Carbons on the counter before going back outside.

The attendant slips the money in his pocket.

"Full tank it is."

* * *

"Whatcha reading?"

Missile Kid has somehow escaped from the Trans AM and Kobra Kid quickly closes the "Murder" magazine setting it aside.

His blush is deep, almost the color of his brother's hair.

Fun Ghoul snickers as he looks up from the battery he's been working on.

He gives Kobra a smile and a wink.

"Wait until I tell Party!" He says in a singsong voice.

"Tell him what?" Kobra asks, glaring, but he cannot hide the slight tremor in his voice.

"That you've been corrupting not only your own mind but that of an innocent child."

"She didn't see anything."

"Look again Einstein."

Kobra Kid whips around, aghast at the fact that Missile Kid has somehow picked up the magazine and is now flipping through it with increasingly wide eyes and mouth.

"Oh crap," Kobra stutters, taking the magazine from her hands and pulling her behind the car.

Fun Ghoul's laughter has not stopped.

"Oh crap, crap, crap…Don't tell Party okay? This is our secret yeah?"

Missile Kid looks at him and her smile is coy.

"Okay…but you know I can't lie to Party that well."

Kobra Kid is desperate.

"What do you want?"

Missile Kid has now crossed her arms,

"I wanna play with your bass,"

"Deal as long as you don't break anything."

"And I want your sunglasses."

The blond Killjoys pauses for a moment and then he reaches up to his head, getting his sunglasses and dropping them into Missile Kid's hands.

"Anything else?"

"Nope. Thanks Kobra!"

Missile Kid runs off and Kobra Kid sighs in relief.

Crisis averted.

* * *

"He just gave them to you?"

"Yup. Just like that. Didn't even say I was asking for too much."

Fun Ghoul snickers again as he takes the sunglasses from Missile's outstretched hands.

These are much better than his own so he takes them and tries them on for size.

They fit perfectly.

"Nice! Here you go," Fun Ghoul reaches into his vest's pocket and pulls out a full and untarnished pack of gum, "Now go back to the car, you little con. Or Party'll come out and see you and then we'll be in real trouble."

"Pleasure doing business with you," Missile Kid grins, taking out a piece of the strawberry flavored candy and sticking it in her mouth as she runs back to the Trans AM.

Ghoul just stares after her, feeling warm pride.

"Do I even want to know what you two did to Kobra now?" Jet Star asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Just carry on with your own business Jet."

* * *

"I have a bad feeling about this Party," Kobra Kid mutters softly, as they park the car a few feet away from the entrance to the motel complex that comprises the Zone 1 headquarters.

"They'd have come out to greet us by now. Or given us a signal or something."

"Did Dr. Death ever get a hold of Triggerpull?"

"No," Jet Star shakes his head, "He's been trying since we left. Nothing."

Party's jaw works.

"We have to know what's going on…Ghoul, you come with me. We'll go and check the place out. Kobra and Jet, you stay with the car and Missile."

No one protests his orders, though Kobra Kid looks close.

Missile Kid snags his arm before he leaves the car. She checks on the teal-beaded rosary-turned-bracelet that she'd given him, making sure that it is tight around his wrist.

Warmth fills each of them at the action.

* * *

Against their better judgment, they split up.

It will be faster that way, they'll cover more ground, and they do want to get out of there as fast as possible. He takes the motel itself while Ghoul sets to searching the courtyard.

The entrance to the complex is unlocked. The hallways of the motel are eerily quiet.

Party had only visited this place once, to check up on the Killjoy that'd had been voted Zone leader, the naming of which he'd approved.

Tiger Triggerpull may not have been a close friend, unlike most of the other Zone leaders, but he'd carried out his duties with efficiency and organization in the four years that he'd held the position.

A sudden, horrible smell catches Party by surprise and he fights his gag reflex as he enters the room where the odor comes from.

The sight that meets his eyes has him gagging again, but not because of the stench.

Tiger Triggerpull is laid out on the bed, tiger mascot mask on. Some of the stuffing of the mask lies around the pillow and the bedcovers and there are deep gashes all over the Killjoy's chest and arms.

He's seen death, _much too many times,_ but it looks like the man has been mauled by a wild animal and Party Poison feels the cry of alarm rising in his throat.

_It's a trap. It's a trap and we have to get the fuck out of here._

He doesn't get the chance.

He catches the slight sound too late, _too late above the blood that rushes in his ears_, and he turns to face the window of the motel room, to try to blow it out if he can and warn Ghoul.

Korse is faster.

Within seconds, the Exterminator's large, cold and cruel hands are around his head, fingers digging into his scalp.

Korse is taller, and he glares down at him, mouth open in a hungry and angry snarl.

His gloved hands immediately go up, wrapping around Korse's wrists, trying desperately to dislodge the man's painful grip.

The lace of Korse's shirt is coarse under his fingers and he feels himself start to relax in Korse's hands.

It is unnatural, _oh so unnatural _and Party fights the fear that rises in his chest at the fact that he cannot pull or push the taller and stronger man _machine_, away from him.

"We meet again Party Poison,"

The bastard leans forward then, close enough to whisper in his ear,

_"And I've come to take her from you."_

* * *

The three Dracs are pinning him to the ground, trying to get his arms behind his back _no doubt to cuff him and render him immobile_.

There's dirt in his mouth from being shoved into the earth but he fights with all his strength and bucks, twisting his body as the resistance gives way, landing a left hook on one Draculoid's masked face.

He has no time to deal with them.

He'd gone outside the motel complex to inspect a noise and now he realizes his mistake.

He's left Party all alone.

Fun Ghoul runs as fast as he can, tearing through the empty hallways.

_Fuck, oh shit, I'm so sorry Party._

* * *

Just when the pain in his temples is about to reach its crescendo, Party feels the pressure ease completely.

His eyes open to see Korse against the wall, being pinned by Fun Ghoul.

Korse easily shoves the smaller man away and Ghoul's loss of balance forces his landing on the bed, right on top of the dead Killjoy.

Ghoul panics at the feel of flesh beneath him _he hadn't had time to investigate the reeking odor that had led him to find his friend._

Party picks up his raygun from the floor and aims and shoots, hitting Korse directly in the chest.

Where his heart should have been.

Korse is dazed by the blow but Party would be incredibly naïve to think that he will stay that way for long.

He helps Ghoul untangle himself from the corpse and together they run for the Trans AM.

* * *

Kobra Kid and Jet Star are not prepared to see Fun Ghoul and Party Poison run out of the motel.

Both men look frazzled and terror clouds their eyes as they approach the Trans AM at full running speed.

The two Killjoys move quickly.

Kobra Kid pushes Missile Kid down onto the floor of the car, telling her to take cover and he stands on the car's back seat, upper body sticking out of the car's open sunroof.

Jet Star takes the front seat and sticks his raygun out the window.

As soon as they're close enough, Party throws himself at the door, sliding in quickly and starting the car.

Fun Ghoul takes the back seat and Party drives off like a maniac.

For a moment, there's nothing but silence behind them and then…

It's Korse's black car, followed closely by two Draculoids on motorbikes.

"Fuck!"

Kobra takes aim and tries a shot on one of the motorbikes but they are too far away.

Though that distance is closing fast.

"We can't lead them to Dr. Death and Show Pony," Jet Star observes solemnly.

"Try to contact Dr. Death and warn him," Party says in response, as he does the math in his head,

_About an hour until they reach Route Guano. From there, around five to six hours until they reach the edge of Zone , an hour and a half to reach the Diner._

_And at the rate that they're burning the fuel…_

"We'll never make it to the Diner. Not without stopping for fuel. We have to get rid of them."

"On it," Fun Ghoul says, asking Missile to move. Once she's out of the way, he reaches under the back seats and pulls out…

"You really kept that under there?" Kobra Kid asks with wide eyes, ducking once so that Fun Ghoul can take the homemade bazooka out on the sunroof.

"Yup. Comes in handy doesn't it? Hey Missile, you wanna help?"

The small girl jumps at the opportunity.

Party Poison is too busy trying to handle the speed that he's forcing the Trans AM to endure to reprimand Fun Ghoul for placing Missile in danger.

Kobra doesn't want to be the one to call Ghoul out on it so he remains quiet.

Fun Ghoul helps Missile Kid grip the bazooka and aim.

They only have three shots, so they have to make them count.

They take out one of the motorbikes, and watch with satisfaction as Korse's car veers off the road slightly in order to avoid the wreckage.

Ghoul is about to help Missile aim for the other motorbike when he spots the Draculoids in the cliffs and mountains around them.

He helps Missile's small hands maneuver the bazooka to the left.

One pull of the trigger and the Draculoid flies up into the air and lands, motionless.

Despite everything, Ghoul pats Missile on the back and she cheers _no longer feeling useless, like a liability. It's empowering to finally be able to help and her chest swells with sincere thanks towards Fun Ghoul._

He seems to understand what he's done, what he's given her, so for the next shot he lets go, lets her handle the weapon completely.

The trust in the action is implicit and she will not fail him _she will not fail them_.

She steadies her arm, her finger on the trigger.

The Draculoid on the motorbike senses that she's aiming for him and he tries to swerve to avoid her.

Missile Kid gets him anyway.

"You're starting to earn your name," Fun Ghoul grins, giving her a high five.

Party's shout _desperate and grating_ brings them both crashing back to reality.

* * *

"Hold on!"

He's aware of the panic he's let slip into his voice for only a few seconds before he slams the brakes.

The bastards have placed a strip of spikes on the ground, the kind meant to deter getaways and Party's pushed the Trans AM too fast to be able to veer off and avoid them.

Physics carries the Trans AM forward, stronger than the brakes, and the car stumbles over the object.

For a moment it seems they've cleared it.

But Party knows his car, knows how it handles better than anyone and he can feel the loss of traction, the loss of power and knows with a sinking feeling that the tires are slashed.

Smoke billows up around the stopped car, mixing with the dust that the vehicle has kicked up.

Party immediately pulls on his yellow mask and turns around to check on everyone.

They don't need to be told what to do.

Fun Ghoul pulls on his Frankenstein mask and exits quickly, pulling Missile Kid with him.

Kobra Kid and Jet Star move just as rapidly and they regroup outside, taking cover behind the Trans AM.

It's still too dusty to see anything clearly.

"You need to get her out here," Party says, chest heaving, as he swift pushes Missile Kid into Jet Star.

Jet Star takes her into his arms, nodding once before they start off.

Missile Kid is crying, she doesn't want to leave them behind, and she fights against him even more when the sound of raygun fire starts up behind them.

But Jet Star doesn't get far.

He can the Draculoids ahead, coming right at him.

They're trapped.

They've been cornered and his heart sinks.

* * *

They fight ferociously.

Kobra Kid hasn't been practicing his martial arts with the leader of Zone 7 for nothing and he lashes out with those skills when his raygun is ripped out of his hand.

The Draculoid he's kicked in the leg falls with a grunt and his partner is momentarily distracted enough for Kobra to land a solid punch to his face.

But there are more, _too many_, and he feels himself getting tired and winded.

_Shit._

* * *

_What is it with these fucking bastards and pinning me to the ground? _Fun Ghoul asks himself, bucking and trying to twist out of the grip two Draculoids have him.

Their grips on him are solid, unshakable, and one of them delivers a strong set of kicks to his leg.

He screams in a combination of pain and frustration at being so vulnerable.

Jet Star hears him.

He's lost sight of Missile Kid somewhere in the fray but he cannot ignore his friend's yell of distress.

Party is too far away and Kobra is getting overwhelmed.

He aims for the Draculoid kicking his friend and shoots, hitting his target.

Fun Ghoul feels the loss of one set of hands and he takes his opportunity, pushing against the ground and successfully dislodging the Draculoids' grip on his arms.

He stands just in time to see a Draculoid coming for Jet Star.

He yells a warning, and Jet Star turns...

The bottle the Draculoid holds catches the Killjoy on the left side of the face.

All Fun Ghoul can hear is the sound of breaking glass as his world goes red.

He finds his green raygun on the floor easily and shoots one of the two Draculoids behind him.

He turns to see that Jet Star has fallen and is clutching at his head.

His blood runs cold when he sees the _ruby red_ that drips from between the taller man's fingers.

And the Draculoids do not stop. They surround the fallen Killjoy like vultures, lashing out with their boots.

Fun Ghoul moves with purpose, trying to clear a path straight to Jet Star, who is lying on the ground still, unmoving.

Fear spreads throughout him and his throat itches with the call for help but whom would he ask? Kobra is overwhelmed. And Party…Party is surrounded by Dracs and Korse, Missile Kid behind him.

* * *

Kobra Kid sees what is happening. He uses his Powerglove, pushing it against a Draculoid's throat and pressing the buttons at the wrist that turn on the current.

The Draculoid shakes, Kobra feels the pulse of electricity through the cloth, and finally the drone falls to the ground, dead.

He tries to go to his brother, blocking a high punch that leaves his middle unprotected, enough for the Draculoid to slice at his stomach with a broken-edged bottle.

Pain flares on his belly, hot and fast, throbbing as he looks and sees the red seep through and stain the yellow and black of his shirt.

His legs lose their strength, his knees meet the ground and the Draculoid steps closer, brandishing the bottle with a ferocity Kobra's never seen in the drones before.

Fun Ghoul saves him, and the last thing Kobra Kid is conscious of is the black-haired Killjoy slamming the Draculoid to the ground.

* * *

Fun Ghoul is painfully aware of the fact that he and Party are the last ones left standing.

An outraged scream stops him as he moves to check on Kobra Kid, whose blood is slowly coloring the dust.

They've wrenched Missile Kid from Party's arms but the red-haired leader is fighting with all that he's got.

He manages to get Missile back, manages to almost clear a path through the circle of Draculoids.

It's all he sees however.

Something connects with the back of his head, a sting that seems to travel straight to his brain and Fun Ghoul plunges into merciful black.

Party screams like a feral creature and Missile Kid winces at the sound, more so because the hands on her arms, _the wrong hands, the cold ones that want to take her _finally succeed in pulling her away.

But Party Poison will not give up or give in so with a yell of outrage that they would dare to take her _take her from him_ he drops to a crouch and manages to take her into his arms before the Draculoid can pick her up. He's ready to stand, to clear a path through the Dracs that have encircled them when one of the drones _and Party has suspicions, because the Draculoids have never been this bloodthirsty before_ aims a charged kick at the child in his arms.

_Ever the fierce protector_ and Party turns swiftly, blocking the blow with his curled body and still he does not let go of his charge, does not drop her, even when the Drac delivers another solid kick to his left side.

Korse yells for his subordinate to stop,

"You might injure the girl!"

But the drone finishes the motion, stops only after he's kicked him again and Party feels something give way as fire licks through his left side and he cannot stop the groan that forces its way past his lips.

Missile Kid screams in his arms, the sound hurts his ears, tears at his chest and she hugs him closer, stricken and frightened, asking him desperately if he is okay.

He tries to reply, but Korse looms above them now, and he leans down, tangling and pulling a hand through Party's crimson hair.

"I told you that I would take her from you, Party Poison…you've failed."

The Exterminator's grin is ferociously content as he drops his hand to the left side of the Killjoy's torso, splaying out his long fingers as he pushes, squeezing harshly when he feels bones below his hand shift slightly and yield to his strength.

Party keens low in his throat, his eyesight blurs, but he does not let go of Missile Kid, who has gone quiet in his arms, supporting him, her small hands around his neck helping him endure _a reminder of everything that he's terrified to lose._

"Enough with this game," Korse growls, impatient.

The Exterminator rises to his full height and calmly, coldly, presses his raygun to the Killjoy's head.

"You best come with me, girl. Or I'll pull you away from his dead body once I blow his brains out."

Missile Kid shivers violently in his arms and Party holds onto her.

_"Don't listen to him, sweetheart."_

Korse's raygun does not waver, and he cocks the weapon.

"I'll give you to the count of seven."

Missile Kid doesn't take the chance.

Party feels her fighting against his hold, feels her small hands untangling from his neck and she starts to move.

Two Draculoids surge forward and begin to pull her away again, only this time, Missile Kid does not fight back.

He tries _God he tries to keep his hold on her_, but Korse's raygun has slipped down, down to his side and the bastard is pushing the weapon against the too-tender flesh.

Black dances across his vision, and he feels himself slip to the ground, and the next thing he knows he's on his back, eyes fluttering open to reveal the sight that makes his breath catch and his heart stop.

Korse is standing not far away, stoic but the pleasure that shines in his black eyes makes Party's stomach churn.

And he looks to Korse's right, where a Draculoid is shaking Missile Kid's boom box, before determining it useless and dropping it to the ground.

The Draculoid in the middle however, _that bastard, the son of a bitch, _is holding Grace.

And the fact that the Exterminator is no longer holding his white raygun to Party's head ignites the will to fight in her again.

This time, she is at least surer that her struggles will not end immediately in the death of one of her heroes, so she kicks against the drone's legs.

Party's vision begins to swim again and he fights the pull of the shadows with waning strength.

"Keep running," Korse growls _twisting the Killjoy's motto into something that accuses them all of cowardice._

The last thing his hazel eyes see is Grace being carried away.

And then the pain in his side is nothing _nothing _against the shattering anguish in his heart.

* * *

Fun Ghoul awakes to throbbing in his head, enough to make him close his eyes against the fading glare of the setting sun.

He sits slowly, and looks at the carnage before his eyes with increasing awareness of what's transpired.

Thankfully _so he doesn't have to deal with this alone_, Jet Star is also coming to, though the other man still holds his hand against the left side of his face, which is painted by dried blood.

Ghoul scrambles to a standing position, going immediately to the Trans AM.

They need help and they need it fast.

Missile Kid's absence doesn't escape his consciousness, but he pushes that acknowledgement away.

_It hurts too damn much._

* * *

"These aren't simple Draculoids," Dr Death Defying whispers to him, his mustached mouth frowning.

Fun Ghoul gives him a look before gazing back to the van, where Party Poison is helping Kobra Kid get in while Show Pony guides Jet Star.

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Death pulls the white glove off a dead Drac's left hand, revealing the barcode that has been tattooed on the flesh.

"This is a standard Drac mark. Nothing special."

The pirate radio DJ then moves to another body, not far away, and pulls off both white gloves, revealing a set of different tattoos.

_S__#675 _on both.

Before Ghoul can say anything, Dr. Death pulls back the edge of the Drac's mask, baring its throat.

The same letter and number of the tattoo have been branded onto the drone's neck, similar in position to Ghoul's own scorpion tattoo.

Ghoul touches his tattoo, wincing in sympathy _that must have hurt like a son of a bitch, _as his lip curls in outrage for what BL/Ind. does even to its employees.

"He had Scarecrows disguised as Dracs attack you…It wasn't bad luck. It was premeditated, and with time too…I don't want to be accusing anyone of anything but–"

"Tiger Triggerpull was tortured," A voice behind them says, and both men turn around to stare at Party Poison, "His camp was empty."

The Doctor's eyes fill with just the slightest hint of fear, "His Killjoys?"

"I didn't see any. Triggerpull must have been dead for a day at least. I don't know. It's hard to tell with this heat."

Party Poison looks away before turning back to them, withdrawing something _bloody and dirty but unmistakably yellow _from his pocket.

"I had just enough time to pull this from him."

Their bandanas and masks work like dog tags, as identifiers. He's yet to see any two Killjoys with the exact same design.

But this bandana is slightly different, and it means a little more.

Party has one tied around his left calf, just above his boot.

Dr. Death opens the wrinkled cloth and holds it out to the sun.

The light filters through the carefully made and stitched cutouts in the middle of the fabric, making a small though clear pattern on the ground.

_1_

_T.T._

"What do you want to do Party?"

"We have to contact the other Zones. Warn their leaders to be on the lookout."

Dr. Death hesitates for a moment…

"And…Missile?"

Party doesn't answer as he walks away.

* * *

"Hold still, Kobra."

Kobra Kid stills as Dr. Death Defying cleans away the blood on his stomach.

The blond Killjoy's hand clench the fabric of his shirt, which he's holding up, when the sting of the antiseptic burns.

Jet Star sits not too far away, also trying to be as still as possible as Show Pony slowly and gently tries to pick bits of glass from his left upper cheek.

The roller-skater will not touch the tiny sliver _however small_, that's much, much too close to the Killjoy's eye.

Fun Ghoul watches what's happening from behind Dr. Death, trying to be useful but mostly just coming across as hovering and worried.

Party Poison's tap on the shoulder makes him jump.

_Party has not talked much, not after he'd explained what had happened, in too accurate detail, when Dr. Death Defying and Show Pony showed up in the white van._

_There's a look in his friend's hazel eyes that strikes Fun Ghoul as vaguely familiar. Though it is a familiarity that reeks of misery, something that Ghoul would rather remain in the recesses of his memory._

"I need your help with something, Ghoul."

He opens his mouth to protest. Surely Dr. Death and Show Pony will need something.

But he closes it again when something like a wince crosses his friend's face.

Between Kobra's and Jet's injuries _and Missile Kid's forced disappearance_ he realizes that besides those obviously wounded, no more than quick questions about well being have been asked of him and Party.

Ghoul looks back to see that Kobra is trying to crane his neck above Dr. Death's broad shoulders to see what is going. A gruff order to settle down from Dr. Death draws his attention away and Ghoul finally follows Party.

The red-haired Killjoy takes Ghoul into his room and Ghoul tries to not let his surprise show. Party's never allowed anyone in here.

_With the sole exception of Grace._

"What do you need Party?" He asks, distracted by the drawings, _breathtakingly beautiful _that seem to line the walls of the room, only dimly aware of the click of the closing door.

A few, colorful and clearly drawn by a child _Grace _tug at his heart and make him look away.

_He has some of them in his own room and knows for a fact that the others, even Show Pony and Dr. Death, also have Grace's drawings on their walls._

Party stands there, unsure.

And then his hands reach to the zipper of his jacket, and he slips the clothing off his shoulders.

He takes off his shirt in just as fluid a motion and Ghoul fights to contain the gasp of surprise as he looks upon the livid purple that lines Party's left side.

"Party, what–Dr. Death–"

"–Is busy enough with Kobra and Jet…I just need your help wrapping it up."

"Party–"

"Ghoul, are you going to help me or not?"

There's a tired edge to the Killjoy's voice that makes Ghoul flinch.

"Yeah... Where are the bandages?"

Party points to his desk's drawer and Ghoul retrieves the item and quickly sets to wrap his friend's chest.

Dr. Death can only distract the younger brother for so long and by Party's actions Ghoul can tell that the red-haired Killjoy wants to keep this quiet.

_Just like last time_ he can't help but think and suddenly it dawns on him, _dawns on him in recognition so strong he cannot deny it _because Party has just healed from his last secret injury, so he presses a gentle touch to Party's side, experimental and he feels it, _feels the hot and tight flesh beneath his hand, where he knows no hardness should be._

They can get medicine _most of the time_ to treat infection. They can bandage up a sprain, splint a break, suture a cut.

But they're totally and completely fucked when it comes to _internally_ and Fun Ghoul feels his heart hammer against his chest.

_No, no, no, no…_

"Party, this–"

"I know Ghoul."

"Fuck, Party! This isn't–"

"We need to get Grace back."

Fun Ghoul freezes, he stops and he looks up, looks into Party's eyes and a horrible sense of déjà vu overwhelms him.

He finally remembers when he's seen this look before, _this look so hollow and exhausted, so pained and lost, lost so lost in distress. Empty and desperate._

_Practically lifeless._

_He hasn't seen this looks in a little over three years, when they'd found Party Poison in the BL/Ind. holding center, hair cut cruelly and pumped so full of drugs he didn't even notice them carrying his limp body outside to be examined by Dr. Death Defying._

He finishes wrapping his friend's chest and Party thanks him with a wordless nod, moving to his desk.

He takes a key from his dropped jacket and opens the locked third drawer.

For a moment, his back obscures whatever it is he's withdrawn from Ghoul's prying eyes.

But when he turns around, BL/Ind. pill bottle in hand, Ghoul crosses the room in two strides, asking Party in a tight voice to hand it over.

_Because the last time Party had had the bottle in his hand was right after they'd rescued him from Isoda, when Ghoul had found him one night, half the pills in his hand, wondering out loud what it would be like to feel nothing._

"Party, give them to me."

"I can't Ghoul."

"Party–"

"Just one Ghoul. To take the edge off. I need to be alert. I need to be focused. This'll help."

"You need to take it easy and rest."

"I need to get her back!"

The two men can only stare at each other after Party's outburst.

Party holds his gaze, _and the void in his eyes has been banished, replaced with anger and pulsing determination, and Fun Ghoul feels the hope re-ignite in his chest._

"I promised her Ghoul...I promised her that I wouldn't let them hurt her... I promised her that she'd see the ocean one day."

Party looks to the biggest drawing on his wall and Ghoul inspects it closer.

For each of them she usually draws battle scenes, or scenes of them all at the Diner, or playing or sleeping. The little mundane events that make the harder passages in their lives bearable.

_But this drawing..._

_This drawing has them all on a beach, stick figured legs knee-deep in the blue waves of an ocean._

"She drew it from one of her postcards."

Fun Ghoul takes one last look at the drawing.

Because Party's made them all promises, and kept them.

_He's gone without for them, kept his promises with his sweat, and tears and blood._

_And, _Fun Ghoul thinks_, its about time that he make a promise of his own._

"We'll get her back Party. No matter what, we'll get her back."

* * *

**Next up, PART II AND THEN WE WILL HAVE REACHED THE END OF THIS STORY!**

**And then...THE SEQUEL :) **

**REMEMBER TO REVIEW. REVIEWS = LOVE **


	8. Party Poison II

**How are you my fellow Killjoys? ****Here is the promised update, Part II.**

**I HAVE SEVERAL IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS!**

**THE FIRST IS: **As you guys know, I challenged you, my readers, to take one of the chapters of this story and expand it into a full blown story. Motorbaby accepted the challenge and took up the mantle for Kobra Kid's chapter.

**HERE IS THE INFO:**

**Story: "Living Nightmare"**

**Author: Motorbaby**

I am going to be pushy now and ask that you guys head over to her profile and read it. It really is awesome, I kid you not. I am incredibly happy and amazed at how she was able to expand on the idea and write it so well. I highly, highly, _highly _recommend it.

On a similar note, another of my good friends, Shinn Asuka-Destiny's Warrior has also posted her own story. Her character plays an important part to the sequel of this story. Again, I give it my highest recommendations! It's worth your time I promise!

**HERE IS THE INFO:**

**Story: "Memory"**

**Author: Shinn Asuka-Destiny's Warrior**

**SECONDLY: I am pleased to announce that the sequel to this story is in the works. In fact, it is titled "Keep Running" and will be posted soon after this final chapter! Check it out :)**

**THIRDLY: Thank you to all of you that have submitted Killjoys (I have received over 30!). It really was a pleasure to "get" in your heads and see how colorful your views of the Dangerverse are! All the Killjoys submitted are introduced in this chapter :D**

**LASTLY: Review replies are in order and long overdue. Here we go ;D**

**Rilakuma: **Thank you for all your reviews and support! I love reading what you have to say :)

**killjoyXscreamersilent (for some reason FF won't let me type out your full username :/):** Thank you for your amazing reviews :) They keep me writing! Here is an update, as requested ;D

**terrablaze:** You are most absolutely forgiven XD No need to apologize ;D Thanks for leaving a review!

**sariin: **Great idea! It's good to vary the ages of the Killjoys :) I have included you character in this chapter!

**Ra MayKaizen: **Thank you so much for that great review. I'm glad that my writing can be so powerful, that's what I aim for! I'm sad for the ending too, but thank you for sticking with this story until now :) I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**xlegnAkraDx: **Thank you, thank you so much :) Your review made me smile! And yes, Na Na Na was made to be nonsensical and random, that's what makes it so great and genius (go Gerard!), but my mind just took the ideas, strung them together into a plot, and I just ran with it XD And yes gigolo is a term I learned recently so I decided to use it, it really does fit Kobra Kid. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Night: **Thank you for the review! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well :)

**Shinn Asuka-Destiny's Warrior: **Thank you :) Yup, Kobra Kid learned a lot of his moves from Sugar Fiend ;D

**chaosbulldog: **Thank you for your awesome review! I always love hearing from you ;) I'm a staff member of another community and I think you can add a story by going to any chapter in that story and there should be an option to add it to the community either at the bottom of the page or on the page that pops up with the review button thingy. Thank you for trying, I hope that you can add both stories mentioned above (and, *shameless plug* the sequel to this one).

**KilljoyRAWR: **Wow thank you for reviewing! I enjoyed reading your comments :)

**AvidPeep: **Thank you for sticking with this story :)

* * *

Five Times Someone Saved Party Poison...

And One Time They Couldn't

* * *

PARTY POISON

* * *

"This is how we're going to get in," Party Poison states, pointing at the roughly sketched map.

Dr. Death Defying peers at the place that Party's finger is pointing.

"You're going through a tunnel?"

"Yeah. We'll take the Trans AM… Have you been able to contact any of the other Zones?"

Dr. Death looks away, jaw tight, "I haven't been able to contact anyone. Not since you left. All the lines are down…" Fear creeps into the pirate radio DJ's voice, "They're jamming the signal…We're alone... Every Killjoy out there is."

The words are solemn and the implications of what is going around them _their world is practically breaking down _weigh heavily on all of them.

But their mission is clear, clear in the renewed purpose to Party's movements, in the light _resolute and strong_ that shines in his eyes.

Fun Ghoul observes his friend and leader closely, watching for any signs of pain.

That he and he alone knows the extent of Party's condition is overwhelming and he wonders if this is what Party feels constantly, if he carries this burden _this need to protect, to guard, to save_ as heavily as it seems to rest on Ghoul's shoulders.

He frowns at the thought.

"I know what I'm asking of you," Party begins suddenly, and instantly he has everyone's attention.

"I know what I'm asking of you," Party repeats, playing with the hand-drawn map before his eyes look at each of them in turn, "I know…I know the risks. To all of us. To everything and…"

Words fail him then, and Party can no longer hold their gaze.

But he doesn't need to.

Fun Ghoul's hand falls on top of his, stilling the nervous fingers.

"We'll get her back."

Kobra's hand falls on top of Ghoul's, Jet's on top of Kobra's, _actions of a shared and unspoken promise._

* * *

Dr. Death feels fear. _Fear for the Killjoys out there, alone. Fear for Missile Kid and whatever must be happening to her at this very minute. And fear for the four men before him, men whom he's grown to admire and respect and love like brothers, family in this wasteland of a world._

_He feels the terror, knows what the most likely outcome of their mission will be._

_This could be the last time that he has with them and he'll be damned if he wastes it._

"I'm proud of you boys."

Dr. Death Defying is not a man who shares his feelings, however strong, easily.

So the open admission, the raw and rough edge to his voice…

"Thank you," Each of them choruses in their own way.

Party Poison stands then.

"Let's take two hours to eat and rest. And then…"

"Then we take her back," Kobra Kid finishes.

* * *

Fun Ghoul takes a moment to organize his meager belongings.

He'd been able to rescue only a few things, only able to cram a few memories into a bag before having to evacuate.

The frame in his hands is cracked.

But it holds a priceless picture, _himself, Jamia, Cherry and Lily._

He strokes the glass and feels warm, complete.

_And he knows he's ready for whatever may come._

* * *

Jet Star fights the urge to scratch at the eye patch that covers his left eye.

Dr. Death had said that it was only for precaution, to keep the sand and grit of the desert out of the healing cuts.

He occupies his fingers in another way, taking hold of the stuffed animal that sits on his bed.

_It's a giraffe, Krista's favorite animal, and he strokes the fur, however worn and matted, with gentle fingers._

It feels strange to be able to see out of only one eye.

Yet he feels it doesn't matter. Soon enough, they'll have Grace back. And that's as far as he allows his thoughts to travel.

Beyond that lays a deep chasm of uncertainty, and he grips the giraffe harder, using it as a tether to his courage, _a reminder of everything he's lost and what he knows he must now fight for_.

* * *

Kobra Kid slowly unwraps his bass, shedding the cloths he'd sown himself to protect the instrument from the heat and the dust.

He allows his long fingers to run the neck, the slight grooves on the metallic strings familiar.

He experiments with some chords, some riffs, light and playful, not at all serious before he really gets into it, playing bits and pieces of songs painful to remember.

Painful in the way they bring back memories of a previous life, a life where their music was one of the biggest parts of their world.

And yet the pain yields, surrenders to the warmth of other recollections, ones that shine, _Alicia, their wedding, their band, success and triumph, happiness._

His fingers still of their own accord, no longer frenzied across the strings, as soft notes fill his ears.

He'd been hearing Party humming the tune for weeks now, muttering the tentative lyrics.

"Sing it out, boy you've got to see what tomorrow brings…"

* * *

The first thing that Party does when he steps inside his room is to lock the door.

Then he begins.

His gloved fingers carefully but quickly unpin the pictures on his walls.

He makes sure to tear the paper as little as possible, placing the pieces he has taken down into a haphazard pile on his desk.

He pulls Missile Kid's pictures last, and places them on top. That way she'll know that he's leaving the drawings to her.

He takes a few moments to gaze at the black and white portraits he's drawn of Lindsay and Bandit and Grace, of his three brothers, of Dr. Death Defying and Show Pony and all the other Killjoys he's met so far.

_Chiaroscuro depictions of what was and what remains, what was lost and what still needs to be saved, and protected._

Last, he reaches into his drawer and pulls out the bottle of BL/Ind. pills.

His side has started to throb again.

Party Poison slips out two more pills and swallows them dry.

It's time to speak to Dr. Death.

* * *

When Dr. Death Defying hears a noise behind him, he swivels around in his wheelchair quickly, half expecting a Draculoid.

Instead, Party Poison is standing there, two things bundled in his hands.

The first is easy to accept.

Dr. Death recognizes it as the small tin box that holds the codes for the two emergency calls.

_Two separate wires connected to BL/Ind. Communication lines that would self-ignite within minutes of use._

"You'll need to gather up all the Zone leaders. Discuss what to do next."

Dr. Death Defying simply nods, _he doesn't really want to talk about this, doesn't want to hear the finality and farewell combined in Party's voice._

"I won't take that, Party," He says finally, nodding towards the yellow bandana in the red-haired Killjoy's hands.

Party Poison just smiles at him, folding up the cloth neatly before placing it on Dr. Death's desk.

"For Missile Kid then."

* * *

Show Pony usually looks forward to loading up the Trans AM.

He looks forward to packing the things he knows the Fabulous Killjoys will need on their journeys; always arranging all the Power Pup labels to face one side, stacking the canteens and water bottles neatly.

But now, all he's loading are gas cans and battery ammo.

He knows they'll need nothing else.

* * *

Party Poison is the first there.

He tapes a picture of Missile Kid to the dashboard and then gets out of the Trans AM, leaning against the driver's door, wondering and dreading if he'll have to go inside and get the others.

They come to the car of their own accord, Jet Star and Fun Ghoul sliding into the back, while his brother takes the seat next to him.

Dr. Death Defying and Show Pony only come as far as the door to the Diner.

It's clear neither man wants to say goodbye.

Show Pony holds up both his hands, thumbs up, a sad smile on his face.

Dr. Death gives them a firm salute.

"Keep running!"

* * *

They drive silently, passing by Zone marker after Zone marker, stopping only to fill up the gas tank with the cans Show Pony had stashed in the trunk.

The quiet is pensive, not uncomfortable.

Party's side is numb, and he feels no pain.

* * *

"Pack up the van, Show Pony. I'll see if I can get in contact with Hyper Noise. We're going to need a driver."

Show Pony obeys wordlessly, roller-skating out of the room.

Dr. Death Defying takes a moment to look around, letting his eyes rest on the gigantic black widow that covers the opposite wall.

_The flag of the Fabulous Killjoys._

He won't fail them.

Whatever happens, he'll see to it that Missile Kid lives.

* * *

The entrance to the tunnel is unguarded.

BL/Ind. is overconfident in its defenses.

That or they're driving straight into a trap.

He glances to his brother, then back to Fun Ghoul and Jet Star.

They seem just as determined as he is, _just as willing and ready to say that the aftermath is secondary if only the future can be bulletproof once more._

The security check booth is coming up ahead, and he steps on the pedal.

The Scarecrow reading the newspaper looks up once, catching sight of the incoming Trans AM on the second glance.

He stands immediately, the Draculoid behind him doing the same, drawing their ray guns.

They fire only twice before Party drives the car straight through the security barrier, straight through the two drones.

The red-haired Killjoy chances a look back, just in time to see the downed Scarecrow reach up and press the alarm button.

* * *

"Ma'am, they're advancing through the southwest tunnel entrance."

Airi Isoda steps forward, peering at the screen that the Draculoid is pointing to.

Missile Kid's ears perk up at the sentence, but she keeps her head down, calm, as she plays with the blue ball they'd given her.

_Blue had been her mother's favorite color._

_"The color of the ocean," She'd said, "The color of water, of life."_

She'd shared her mother's liking until she'd died.

Now she hates the color.

* * *

Isoda keeps her arms crossed. She has to do nothing. The procedures for such break-ins and attacks are already in place, the Draculoid and Scarecrow units already gearing up to face the intruders have rehearsed them countless times.

The plan is simple.

Korse's words ring in her ears, "_Let them come inside. Let them grab the girl. Let them believe that they have a chance and then, when the time is right, signal my chambers, and I will end it all."_

* * *

Party Poison swerves the car to a standstill just a few meters away from the main southwest entrance.

He steps out and the others follow.

* * *

Missile Kid can only listen as Airi Isoda gives out more orders, the woman's voice quiet, as if she didn't want her to hear.

From her position on the ground, she can barely see past the white shoulders of the Draculoids. And yet, the tiny colorful flickers on the screens that she _can _see ignite hope.

Enough for her to look up at the cold Asian woman and give her a triumphant smile.

The woman only returns an obviously forced and ugly grin before looking away.

* * *

The Scarewcrows and Draculoids guarding the entrance don't stand a chance.

Party takes out the first two, on either side of the door.

Kobra Kid wipes out the Draculoid behind them, and Fun Ghoul takes care of one coming out of the shadows, no doubt trying to flank them.

They advance quickly and efficiently, their opponents no match for the single-minded drive that pushes each of them to their best.

* * *

For a moment, Airi Isoda ponders staying to fight.

Her blade is in her hands, preparation to defend the company that she is blindly loyal to.

But those are not her instructions.

And she cannot defy orders.

So, upon hearing the approaching footsteps of the men who are no doubt the Fabulous Killjoys, she removes herself from the scene, leaving the Draculoids and girl behind.

* * *

Fun Ghoul goes into the room first, blasting away the two Draculoids sitting at the monitors in rapid succession.

Kobra Kid and Jet Star stay at the door, keeping an eye on the numerous hallways and Party Poison…

Party goes in quickly and Missile Kid runs to him and he drops to his knees, taking her into his arms and hugging her tightly.

Her hands wrap around his neck, clutching him, slightly shaking from the fear and uncertainty.

Because she knows, somewhere inside, hidden away, that them coming to get her…

_Every rescue, every salvation has a price._

Maybe Party senses it, maybe he knows what she's thinking, _what she fears because he fears it too. Because with them gone, who will protect her then?_

His eyes fly open with the realization and he stands quickly.

"We need to go."

* * *

Airi Isoda knows that it is time.

She takes the communication device into her hand, flipping the switch that will alert Korse to awaken inside his chambers.

From here, the matter is out of her hands and in his.

She knows he will not fail.

* * *

The Fabulous Killjoys continue to move through the long, white hallways.

Missile Kid leads the way, even as Party's stomach twists at having her in front, perfectly exposed to danger.

But she knows these corridors; she knows this place like the back of her hand.

_Her mother had brought her along on several occasions, showed her where things were and what places were restricted to her curious eyes._

They're almost there, they can see through the glass doors and walls that make up the main south entrance.

It's only a few steps, only a few meters away, _they're almost there!_

Then there is noise behind them.

Party Poison whirls around; the others follow his movement, ray guns up in an instant, flashing with the shots that take the first wave of Draculoids and Scarecrows down.

The white and black clad drones are coming out of nowhere, pouring into the room at an alarming rate, replacing their fallen comrades two by three by four and Fun Ghoul feels his heart constrict in his chest, squeezing painfully with the knowledge of what will happen.

_He has to get Grace and his brothers out of here._

_Party at least._

_Party Poison and Missile Kid have to be the ones that live._

With that goal in mind, Fun Ghoul comes out from behind the pillar providing him cover, moving steadily towards Party.

Jet Star must see his intentions, because the taller Killjoy moves towards Missile Kid, who has come to a halt in the middle of their protective circle, hands against her ears, clearly paralyzed with fear.

* * *

Party Poison takes down Drac after Drac, cursing when they keep coming.

He's aware that Korse is staying back, watching everything, waiting for an opportune chance to strike.

He's about to go confront him, when he feels a warm pressure along his shoulder.

He doesn't even have to turn his head to see Kobra Kid.

His younger brother is leaning slightly against him, covering his back.

They stand there, together, sharing those precious moments.

They both know they have to pull away, _neither wants to_; they have to break their formation in order to get out of there.

Party Poison is the first to move, the first to step towards a Draculoid that is getting much too close.

He wants to yell at the others to get out, to take Missile Kid and go, but he knows they won't leave him, they won't leave him behind _and as much as that breaks his heart it also keeps it whole, seals it together with the heat of their loyalty._

A Draculoid advances towards Kobra Kid, no doubt prepared to take the Killjoy out from behind.

Party doesn't know what possesses him to do it, _to grab the Draculoid's mask even as he shoots the drone in the back, point blank._

_All he knows is that his side has started to throb slightly, that his breaths are now starting to come in pants._

_And maybe it's the brokenness of his chest, the physical part of it, where the Scarecrow had kicked at him and kicked at him to get him to let go of Grace, just yesterday when this whole mess had started._

_But he thinks it's really the discovery that he makes, when the mask, surprisingly pliant, slides right off the Draculoid's head as gravity pulls its dying body down._

The face is familiar, _shockingly so_, too familiar, too known, too much to take, to handle, to process.

_No, no, no, no, no!_

The data crashes inside his head, a pile-up of thoughts, and he cannot accept it.

The mask falls from his now nerveless fingers and he's aware that he steps back.

And then everything jumps into focus again, and he knows he must trust his senses, what he's seeing is the truth.

There is no denying it.

No denying that the body before him, the Draculoid, _the man, the friend, the former Killjoy,_is, _was,_Cherri Cola.

He's killed one of his own.

* * *

Korse does not like to stand by the sidelines.

He does like to observe, however, when he knows it will serve an important purpose.

He'd observed the Killjoys for months, to determine who the weakest pillars of the rebel organization were.

And who were the strongest.

He'd gotten to the weakest, had persuaded them to give in, to betray.

And the strongest are before him now, they've played perfectly into his trap and all for what?

For _love_?

He smirks at the notion, feels rage fill him at the thought.

Their love will cost them their lives, all of them.

All four will belong to the company.

But Party Poison…Party Poison will be _his_.

He has plans for the red-haired leader, plans for the man _the king desert rat_ that's been standing in the way of the company for much too long.

Korse observes him the closest, watches him and sees his chance.

The Exterminator grins as he moves forward, already tasting blood.

* * *

Cherri Cola had trusted him.

He was supposed to have been the one to protect him, to advise him, to dissuade him.

He'd not only deceived the others, he'd deceived himself.

And now, here was the truth, laid bare before his eyes.

_How long had BL/Ind. been taking them, turning them into something that they weren't?_

_How many of these men here, masked, were innocent? How many guilty?_

_Who had joined willingly, and who had been forced?_

_There is blood on his hands again, either way. The blood of his family, and now Cherri Cola's, victims of a nameless war, shrapnel in his heart._

Party can feel the guilt gnawing again, feeding on his reawakened insecurities as a leader.

He is distracted, unaware until it is too late.

_One second and_ he reaches forward and takes hold of the dropped Draculoid mask, fingers closing around the latex.

_Two seconds and_ Korse takes him by the shoulder, pushing him violently against the wall.

He can hear Kobra Kid scream his name _right above the blaring of the alarms and the final thoughts rushing through his mind._

_He'd brought them here, here to this place, to a fate worse than death because he can see it in Korse's eyes, in the way the Exterminator regards him with loathing curiosity as he tilts his head to the right._

And Korse relishes the feeling of power and control that charges through his veins, it's a soaring high that he only feels when chasing the rebels _Party Poison and his gang of Fabulous Killjoys in particular._

Doubt and fear flicker in his adversary's eyes, for the briefest of moments because he must know _how could he not? w_hat Korse has in mind.

And then the steadfast rebelliousness is back, the determined will that refuses to yield even now.

Korse can't stand it.

Party feels the heat of the ray gun's muzzle against his neck, feels the finality of it right under his jaw, pressed against his throat so closely he can sense the cold of Korse's fingers.

Just yesterday,he was the last to fall.

Today, he'll be the first.

He will not close his eyes, will not show fear, and will not beg for his life.

He just stares at Korse, daring him to do it, to finish it.

Defiant to the end.

* * *

Korse grins.

He looks at the man before him, and he grins.

He has a chance to make perfection, to destroy that dangerous and grating beauty that burns in the flame of life in Party Poison's eyes.

And he takes it.

* * *

Fun Ghoul knows he's too late.

Knows it when Kobra Kid screams his brother's name, voice torn by anguish and anger as he runs to help Party Poison.

Knows it when Korse pulls the trigger, when his best friend's eyes close and he slides down the wall.

And he waits, he shoots and he waits, because Party Poison cannot die.

Killjoys never die and Party was the most daring and strongest of them all.

He cannot, he cannot be...

_But he is. Party Poison is dead._

And there is nothing _nothing anymore _that Fun Ghoul can do to save him.

* * *

Kobra Kid sees it all.

He has front row seats, _so fucking close, so close…_

It wasn't enough.

He feels like it never is as he sees his brother's eyes close, sees his body slide down, down to the ground where he stays, unmoving.

_Pain engulfs his chest, flares where he knows his heart should be but it isn't there, not anymore, it's dead, dead, dead, as lifeless as the body of the man who would have given everything for him._

_And he failed him._

_He failed in the most sacred of tasks: the protection of life._

He hears nothing, _not even Missile Kid's piercing, wailing screams register as he charges Korse_, blinded by loss and sorrow.

He sees nothing but the flashing fire of his shot hitting the Exterminator's leg.

And he feels nothing when a Draculoid's blast collides solidly with his torso, sending him straight into a world of endless black.

* * *

He'd tasted the bitterness of failure before.

First when he'd had to help his wife and the wives of his friends into a beat-up bus, trying to give them a chance at continued survival.

And now the taste is back, foul on his tongue and heavy in his stomach, as he sees not only the death of his leader _Party Poison _but then the almost immediate fall of his brother _Kobra Kid_.

Missile Kid's scream is loud in his ears, making them ring and yet he feels nothing.

He feels hollow and tired _so tired_ of everything, of the world and all its injustice and cruelty.

_For taking lives, prized timelines, human stories that should have been allowed to keep running._

But he will not allow the losses to be in vain.

The game is still going, the clock not yet up and he grabs Missile Kid and shoves her against Jet Star.

He pushes them to the entrance, holds the glass door open as shots ricochet around him and then he lets go.

Jet Star's look of confusion _please Ghoul, please we're the only ones left, don't leave me alone_, is only momentary before the taller Killjoy understands, _comprehends that everything that has happened cannot and must not be in vain._

Fun Ghoul turns and shoots.

Fire ignites on his shoulder but he remains upright, keeps his finger on the trigger.

The second laser blow lands a little below the first, and by the time he hits the floor…

* * *

Jet Star knows what he must do.

He's the last one, _the last of the Fabulous Killjoys and that knowledge burns in his very soul, scorching everything that lies in its path._

_But you're wrong, _a voice whispers and he wonders if it's just the adrenaline, just the blood that rushes through his body as he runs, _You're wrong because you are not the last. _

_She's still alive. _

The voice sounds like Party Poison's and he must be mistaken because he's just seen the man _the leader, the friend and brother_ fall.

He listens anyway.

He keeps running, running toward the dirty white van that's pulling up, the barely-there light of the new day flashing dimly off of the dusty paint.

He never makes it, _something sears in the middle of his chest,_ and yet he feels that he's done it.

_You're wrong. She's still alive._

* * *

Missile Kid feels hands pulling her into the van.

She feels someone settling her in the back, arms around her shoulders, rubbing up and down.

She feels the swaying of the vehicle as it pulls away, hears the dull thump of laser shots hitting the car.

Someone is calling her name.

Her throat aches.

She finally looks up, turning from Show Pony to Dr. Death Defying.

"They're gone," she whispers.

Both men listen and do not know that this will be the last time they'll hear her voice.

* * *

Korse watches impassively as the remaining Draculoids begin to gather the bodies of their dead.

He sends the Scarecrows that have just come in to collect the bodies of the Killjoys, ordering those with stretchers to the three near the door.

He stands over the body of the fallen leader, however, contemplative.

Airi Isoda joins his side.

"I saw them get away," She mentions, "The girl was taken by the one known as 'Dr. Death Defying' and two others I do not know."

Maybe she's expecting Korse to be angry.

The Exterminator though, just nods at her.

His steely black eyes return to the red-haired man that sits unmoving.

"Once they've all been processed and sterilized, take the others to the Draculoid facility," He says finally, "This one is to go to the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit,"

The Scarecrows just act upon his orders, unspeaking.

Korse continues to watch as they pull the limp body onto a stretcher before a third Scarecrow maneuvers it into a BL/Ind. issue body bag, zipping it up immediately.

"What now, Chief Exterminator?"

For a moment, Korse doesn't answer and Airi Isoda almost turns away to leave.

His voice comes out collected and calm, even through the smirk on his face.

"We've captured all this on our security cameras, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have the data sent immediately to the Director and the Board…And Isoda?"

He pauses for a beat and she can only look at him quizzically before he continues.

"Have it also sent to the Communications Department. I want their deaths broadcasted on all the television sets in Battery City and the Zones. We've taken the strongest pillars. It's time to destroy the rest of the Killjoys."

* * *

Dr. Death Defying does not want to make the call.

But he knows he has to, _even with the pain gripping his chest_.

He'd use one of the two available emergency calls.

_Emergencies only, Party had said._

_The name catches in his mind, makes the air in his throat somehow heavier._

_He has to tell them, the rest of Killjoys. They deserve to know._

With slow and unsure hands, he takes the mike in his hands.

He opens the small tin box. Inside are the two codes to activate the emergency call lines.

_BL-6-456723_

He can feel Missile Kid's and Show Pony's presence behind him, but he does not turn around.

"Dr. Death Defying here… bad news from Zone 6. Killjoys, listen up…"

**_Zone 1_**

Emergency Exit pressed herself closer to the ruined building behind her, hoping to escape the sun's blaring heat.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around quickly, raygun drawn. She wasn't about to end up like Tiger Triggerpull, not when he'd given his life to save the small group of Killjoys she was now leading away from the ever expanding presence of BL/Ind. in Zone 1.

She didn't expect to see a Killjoy, much less the stricken look on his face.

For a moment she thought Wolf Bled Venom, a Killjoy they'd found wandering the desert alone, injured and memory-less a few days ago, had taken yet another turn for the worse.

"It's the Fabulous Killjoys…" The young man told her and she felt her stomach drop.

**_Zone 2_**

Ammo Annihilation was tinkering with his latest technological creation when he heard it.

Unmistakably shrill, the radio in the communication room beeped for his attention.

This was a different sound though, the one he knew for a fact Motorbaby had had installed for the two possible emergency calls.

He ran to the radio, picked it up. They'd been unable to contact anyone since yesterday, so this had to be about that. _Maybe Dracs had cut the lines again?_

And then he heard the message, felt the blood leave his hands, numbing the feeling of the communicator in his fingers.

"What it is? Anything on the communication lines?" Motorbaby asked from the doorway. She'd been changing the oil on the Jeep outside when she'd heard the sound.

A smile played on her lips until she saw the look of sadness on Ammo Annihilation's face.

And just like that, she knew instinctively what had happened.

**_Zone 3_**

Tommy Chowmein was redoing a map of the Zones when he saw DJ Hot Chimp walk into the room with sagged shoulders.

There was an unusual look of distress upon the typically upbeat pirate radio DJ's face.

"What's up Hot Chimp?"

"Nothing good I'm afraid," The man looked away, "First News, then Cherry…"

Tommy Chowmein swallowed thickly.

"It's not…not _them_ is it?"

"I'm afraid so. Dr. Death just sent it out over the emergency line."

"What now?"

"I don't know Chow. Lines are down; each Zone is on its own…I honestly don't know."

**_Zone 4_**

Ritalin Urgency and Shadow Riot were arguing again, discussing opposing theories of just what the hell was going on and how it could be fixed, when the red light in the big comm. room lit up.

Shadow Riot was the first to see it, and since they'd been unable to contact any other Zone for almost two days, their fight immediately ended in favor of answering the emergency call.

They both expected something, anything, about Dracs and the power lines, about BL/Ind. jamming the signals.

Not what they actually heard.

Riot's voice was tense when he turned back to Ritalin, who fidgeted with her raygun, looking lost.

"Go get Epsilon. He needs to hear this, now."

**_Zone 5_**

"Moony?"

Maroon Blu was busy checking her medical supply kit, frowning at the low amount of gauze when she paused.

Aubergine Sin, as a rule, was a talker. He loved to prattle on about anything and everything, so when he stopped at her nickname it struck Maroon Blu as strange.

The female Killjoy turned around, sensing something was wrong.

The look of barely concealed panic on his face ignited fear in Maroon Blu.

"We have to get Demolition Shot. Tell her what's happened."

"Tell me what?"

Beyond the unsettling feeling of dread in her stomach, Blu knew nothing and she worried the hem of her maroon shirt as she looked at Aubergine for answers.

The male Killjoy spoke haltingly.

"The Fabulous Killjoys…they…they're…"

Demolition Shot looked away, absently readjusting her long yellow jacket. He didn't need to finish.

"All of them?"

Aubergine could only nod.

**_Zone 7_**

"I got 20 to your 12, so I win," Rocketship Dropout announced, placing down her cards and rolling up the sleeves of her green trenchcoat, to prove that she had not been cheating, as the other Killjoy kept claiming.

Little Red groaned, kicking at the legs of the table with old combat boots. "I hate blackjack. Can we play something else?"

Rocketship Dropout was about to retort when Lady Luck came running into the room, out of breath, fright written plainly on her face.

"Sugar Fiend is calling everyone to the basement. Dropout, you get Biscuit. Red, you're supposed to get Crash. Be quick. She wants us there in five."

Lady Luck was about to run off, to get the others, when Little Red's hand stopped her.

"We need to know what's going on."

"Yeah," Rocketship Dropout agreed, "You can't just come in here without even–"

"It's the Fabulous Killjoys," Lady interrupted, "They're gone."

Little Red immediately let go.

**_Zone 8_**

Quantum Kill ran a shaking hand through his hair.

"Did he say anything else?"

Merchant Disaster just shook his head, "No…no more than what I just told you."

"There'll be a war you know."

Merchant Disaster looked at his leader, "You really think so?"

Quantum Kill nodded. "If they've really killed them…killed them like this…it will be the last straw for many."

Disaster fisted his hands, "Do you think we could win?"

Quantum laughed humorlessly.

"With them gone? There'll be anger yes. There already is. It will unite some of us. And divide others. I don't know, Disaster. Nothing is bulletproof… Not anymore."

**_Zone 9_**

"How do you want to proceed?"

Blood Ballistics placed his head in his hands, leaving the question unanswered.

"Blood?"

"I'm trying to think. Trying to think of the best way to handle this, to keep everyone safe. Now that BL/Ind. has ghosted them…they won't stop there Houdini. They won't."

DJ Houdini played with the bandana at his neck.

He knew that his leader was right.

"They'll come after the rest of us…Someone had to have squealed, someone sold them out…someone sold us all."

Blood Ballistics lifted his head and looked at his friend straight in the eyes.

"So who do we trust?"

Houdini could not answer.

"We must proceed as cautiously as possible, with minimal loss of life."

There was a meaning there, an edge to Ballistics' voice that unsettled the other Killjoy.

"I will act to preserve the lives of my Killjoys. Nothing else."

**_Zone 10_**

Battery Burnout sat at her desk, dumbstruck.

She'd just been called over by the Killjoys assigned to monitor communications.

She'd not expected news of this magnitude.

**_Zone 11_**

Electric Revenge looked at the circle of people around her, searching for words.

She found her mouth dry, her throat slack, and the words would not come.

"What do we do?"

Electric's gaze traveled from the brown of the table before her to the brown of Techno Beat's eyes.

_What do we do, Pika-chan?_

The multicolor-haired leader rested her hands on the katana blades strapped to her belt, looking at each of them in turn; Chemical Skeleton, Rocket Revolver, Laser Shot, before her eyes returned to her best friend's.

"We keep running."

Chemical Skeleton smiled sadly.

"Once a renegade," He said,

"Always a rebel," She finished.

**_Zone 12_**

Volume Virus stared at the message in her hands.

She was away from the headquarters, visiting Grandma, the oldest Killjoy who lived at the edges of the territory entrusted to Volume Virus, though the elderly woman claimed allegiance to no Zone.

She'd been getting her tailored jacket fixed when a zone runner had stormed into the small home-turned-shop, carrying the letter.

The writing was sloppy, slanted and hurried.

But she could still read the dreadful message inside.

And she knew exactly what she would do.

**_Zone 13_**

No sooner had Disco Panic heard the emergency broadcast than he slammed his headphones down.

"Sequin!" He shouted, scrawling the message on a slip of paper.

Sequin Anarchy jumped awake from his seat by the door of the large mechanic shop, at once alert as he ran into the other room.

Disco Panic just held the message out to him, hand trembling visibly.

The other Killjoy read the message.

Then he read it again, and again, and again, wishing against all hope that the message would change.

Disco broke him out of his trance.

"Crim needs to see it."

He simply nodded before going to the stairs at the end of the main room, running down them two at a time.

He bumped into Crimson Sigh, who simply smiled at him as he subconsciously fiddled with the Virgin Mary bracelet around his left wrist.

Disco hated the way his leader's face fell when he couldn't return the smile. Hated the way his grey eyes clouded instantly with worry.

"Dr. Death used one of the emergency calls, he said…he– The Fabulous Killjoys are dead…they're gone."

* * *

"Male, blond hair, no identifying marks on the body. Ray gun wound to the abdomen."

The young man moved on, to the table next to the one he'd been examining, glancing once at the older man across from him for approval.

"Male, black hair, many identifying marks though too numerous to catalogue completely. Double ray gun wound to the left upper chest and shoulder."

He moved again, the third table in the row.

"Male, dark brown hair, no identifying marks on the body. Ray gun wound to the center of the chest."

He moved to the last table, looking down at his clipboard once to verify the orders written there.

"Are we really not allowed to touch this one?"

The older man rolled his eyes. "Look, kid. Just follow whatever is on the work order. No more, no less."

The young scientist nodded and began again.

"Male, red hair, no identifying marks on the body. Ray gun wound to the upper neck region…"

He stepped back and jotted down some notes on his clipboard, more out of nervousness than necessity. This was his very first sterilization and processing procedure and already he felt his stomach turn uneasily.

The older scientist across from him must have sensed his trepidation because he fixed him with a hard stare.

"You need to stick to the procedures. Nothing else. We have been ordered to process, sterilize and sort these bodies. This is the kind of work you start with. You may have been able to skip the mandatory Draculoid service because of your brilliance, but that will only get you so far. If the supervisors sense anything other than absolute confidence in you, you'll be shipped off immediately. Is that clear?" He waited until the young man nodded before continuing, "Now that that's out of the way, where are these bodies going?"

"The first three to the Draculoid facility. The last to the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit."

The man didn't say anything further as he reached to his own clipboard and peeled off a sticker.

The barcode on the paper was similar to the barcode barely visible on his hand through the translucent latex material of the surgical gloves.

The young man looked at the top of his own hands, clean and free of any such tattoos.

_He's right. You're where you are today because of your brains. How many of your classmates were sent off to train and serve their mandatory years in the Draculoid units? Your father may be an important board member but it was really your mental aptitude that saved you. Are you going to waste that now?_

"Hey kid, you going to keep daydreaming or are you going to actually help?"

He immediately snapped to attention and took the offered clipboard, peeling off two other barcode stickers and placing them on the left hand of the remaining bodies, sans the last one.

"What about him?"

"We don't place a sticker on him. The people down in the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit will take care of marking and branding him with the number assigned to him by the company."

"_Branding?"_ He couldn't keep the waver out of his voice.

"Yes branding. What are you? Deaf? Draculoids serve for a given number of years. As you approach a certain age, and if your record of service is good, you are re-integrated back into society. Scarecrows, however, serve for life. Hence the drastic identification measures."

He stared at the red-haired man on the table, wondering what he'd done to deserve such a fate.

His co-worker noticed the sympathetic glance and rapped his knuckles on the metal examination table.

"These men were rebels. They worked against BL/Ind. Clearly they were high profile too, especially that one that you're looking at. Better to leave things at that. Chief Exterminator Korse will have your head if he catches any wind of your misplaced sympathy. Especially towards the last one. He must have had a personal vendetta against him because he stunned him personally, and so badly too. I reckon the workers in the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit will be thankful though, the shot the Chief took must have caused some muscle and chord damage. One less laryngectomy to perform. Less time he spends in the cryogenic chambers and out of training and active duty."

He blanched at the idea.

"Don't tell me you've never wondered why the Scarecrows don't talk? Makes it easier to control a man I suppose, when you silence his voice."

The older scientist frowned. He never referred to the bodies he worked on as men, or even human. It only made things much, much harder.

"Enough with this nonsense," He muttered, now angry, "Get the three scheduled for sterilization. First one and third don't need much work, just a haircut I think. We can't remove all of the tattoos on the second so just make a note that we'll leave him as is. First will need about a week in the cryogenic chambers to heal. Second and third a week and a half. The last, I reckon about two weeks."

The young man only nodded, not trusting his voice after everything he'd just been told.

"And arrange for someone to come and change them. Their clothes go to the Disposal Unit. All these colors are hurting my eyes."

* * *

"I must congratulate you on your excellent work, Chief Exterminator. The Board and this company are very pleased with what you've been able to deliver."

"And it's only the beginning, Director," Korse drawled, playing with his pen, "There is still so much more to be done."

"Tell me, Korse. Now that you've taken out the most dangerous threats to this company in one single blow, how do you plan on following up?"

Korse stood from his seat, gesturing to the three-dimensional topographic holo-map of the Zones in the middle of the conference table.

"The Fabulous Killjoys were the greatest threat but not the only ones. We divided the Zones into six parts but the rebels have gone and divided themselves into thirteen different areas. They've appointed a so-called 'Zone leader' to each one. My guess is that the rebel DJ, alias 'Dr. Death Defying' has now taken control of Zone 6. With the killing of Zone leader alias 'Tiger Triggerpull' however, I've managed to overrun Zone 1. I am confident that the company will have complete dominance there by the end of the week."

"You do not fail to impress Chief Exterminator," The Director said with a wicked smile.

Korse returned the sick grin. "By taking out the upper level of the rebel organization we've created a power vacuum. I have no doubt the Killjoys will be vying for some semblance of control over the next weeks, trying to fill the gap. And that is where we must strike. We must divide them further, drive them apart."

"An ambitious plan indeed."

"Ambitious and completely sound, I assure you. We'll continue to jam all Zone radio signals. Keep them from contacting each other. Keep them isolated and afraid. I'll have my men renew their efforts, this time concentrating on the Zone leaders as primary targets."

The Director seemed content thus far. "And what of the 'fabulous' rebels you took this morning? When will they be operational?"

"The scientists tell me all will be functional and ready for re-programming within two weeks," Korse paused. He had arrived at the part of the plan where he knew the most controversy would arise, "There is however, another arrangement that must be discussed."

The Director's eyes narrowed. "What is it, Korse?"

"I want to offer the rebels amnesty."

Loud, angry murmurs went up around the table.

A man to the far left stood up, angrily. "Are you out of your mind?"

Korse regarded him with a cool glare. He particularly loathed this board member, who believed himself superior, even when he'd sniveled and bribed his son out of mandatory Draculoid service duty.

The Director silenced them all by slamming his fist on the table. "I'm sure Korse has a good explanation. One that he will provide right away."

Korse ignored the sharp edge in the Director's voice.

"I want to send the signal out to every Zone that anyone who drops their ray gun and mask, and sends a representative to Battery City, will be forgiven their crimes against the company and be allowed to join the Neutrals."

"And what, exactly, do you think to accomplish by doing this?"

Korse gave another twisted smile. "That, Director, is the purpose of the following presentation."

The Exterminator took a seat as Airi Isoda typed something into the computer, beginning the visual presentation of Korse's plan on the large display screen at the far wall.

The Director and Board members watched in rapt silence until the screen went black.

The Director simply looked at Korse and nodded.

Explicit permission to proceed, and now Korse knew that nothing else would stand in his way.

* * *

Missile Kid packs in a hurry, shoving whatever belongings she's gathered over the years into a trash bag.

She knows they have little time, _the chances that BL/Ind. will find them are now higher than ever and with her protectors gone…_

She shakes her head, suppressing the thoughts and the emotions, burying the memory _still fresh, only a few hours ago_ deep within the recesses of her young mind.

She places her boom box in last, hoping that the few items of clothing she'd thrown in will cushion the electronic device.

It doesn't work, _she really doesn't know why her mother ever gave it to her in the first place_, but it's something of her past, a little piece of the woman who'd raised her and saved her life.

She ties the bag off and is about to leave the room when she spots the plant.

Party had given it to her for her birthday _just like Ghoul had given her a robot toy, like Kobra had given her a flashy hacking device, like Jet Star had given her a new bomber hat._

The plant is entrenched firmly in a small pot, surrounded by dark brown dirt and encased in a glass box perforated with holes to let air in.

The only light it gets is artificial _the sun is too damaging_, the only air that of the Diner _the air outside would have killed it_.

The protection had allowed the plant to grow green and strong, unlike the near-dead brush outside.

It brings tears to her eyes but she grabs it and takes it with her.

White Dr. Death Defying and Show Pony are packing up the essentials she goes to the other rooms.

She knows there won't be enough room in the van for everything so she picks up the things she believes they would have wanted to keep.

A picture frame, a stuffed animal and the bass.

The pile of drawings on Party's desk, neatly stacked, are the last to go in the bag _and only because she'd contemplated ripping them up, not bearing to look at the images on the paper._

She runs the bag to the back of the van but she keeps the small plant with her and she stands there, staring at the building that has been home to her for the last few years and which she must now abandon.

_It feels like everyone and everything is leaving her behind._

Dr. Death Defying's hand rests on her shoulder.

"We have to go now Missile Kid. Hyper Noise has offered us her place."

She doesn't answer and Dr. Death struggles with the words, _struggles because he doesn't know what to say, how to help her, how to ease the pain._

He settles for something Party Poison had told him one a late night when both men had been unable to sleep.

"You know Party told me once," Dr. Death pauses when he feels Missile Kid tense, "He said that we only live forever in the lights we make. Their lights are with you Grace."

Missile Kid still says and does nothing and he takes her hand, placing the folded yellow cloth inside it.

She stares at it, and says nothing, even as she unfolds the yellow bandana and holds it up to the sun.

_6_

_P.P._

She merely crumples the cloth and stuffs it into her pocket, giving one last glance to the Diner before turning and running into the van.

Dr. Death Defying can only sigh and follow.

* * *

The Diner grows smaller and smaller in the distance.

Grace watches its fading outline until it becomes just another speck against an arid background.

_"We only live forever in the lights we make."_

She grabs her journal out of her satchel, runs her fingers over the worn and warm leather.

She'd tried talking this morning, even if only half-heartedly, and been unsurprised when nothing came out.

Show Pony is not watching her like he's supposed to.

He's too busy looking outside for danger and she takes her chance, grabbing a small but sharp piece of glass on the van floor, a left over from a previous _now repaired _blown out window.

Her fingerless gloves provide some protection but still the glass cuts into her fingers as she takes the sharpest edge and presses it to the cover of her journal, carving each letter carefully.

When she's done she simply wipes her hand on her jeans, the blood fading mostly into the dusty dark blue.

She looks at the yellow bandana now tied around her wrist_,_ then at the carved words.

_Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys._

She wonders if Dr. Death Defying is right. If their lights, _brilliant colors of red, green, blue and yellow _really carry on with her.

The pages beneath her hands will be her voice now, she decides. She'll write instead. She'll write about everything, every story that collides and intertwines with her own.

The future will be bulletproof once more.

* * *

**And so we have reached the end. Thank you to all who've stuck with me and made this story a success, it has garnered a great amount of reviews in such a short time and I have you guys to thank for that :D**

**Keep an eye out for the sequel, which will feature all the Killjoys submitted to me! I promise that it will be awesome ride.**

**Now I will ask you one last time (before the sequel that is!) REVIEW! A writer's muse feeds on reviews ;D**


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